


The One Who Loves Her the Most

by rileypotter17



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Response to Season 8, Unconventional Relationship, jornaerys - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2020-03-20 15:28:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 56,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18995407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rileypotter17/pseuds/rileypotter17
Summary: In modern day London, Princess Daenerys Targaryen struggles with changes in the Royal Family. Getting used to her new home and new responsibilities seem easy in comparison to her relationship with Captain Jorah Mormont, which brings out both the best and worst in her.





	1. A Brother Lost

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a modern day AU in London, England. Many characters that are dead in the TV series are alive and well here and some canon is totally out of place. I do not own any rights to GoT or am making any comments about the royal family. This is purely fiction.
> 
> This will be a slow burn Jornaerys fic – so stick with it!

It should be any other Monday, but it isn’t. Today, Monday, May 13th is now a bank holiday but under the worst possible terms. All of England is off of work – those in the countryside glued to their tellies and those in London, swarming the main thoroughfares to see the procession begin and pay their respects. It is a day of national mourning. A day that not only England will remember and mark in their history books, but the rest of the world will as well; a day marking the start of the royal funerary services for a young man gone too soon. But for Daenerys Targaryen, it is the day that she can no longer ignore that she has lost her eldest brother.

 

A week ago, she was shaken awake by her personal Royal guard, Torgo Nudho (whom everyone referred to as ‘Grey’). He never came into her rooms unannounced and always held himself among the highest echelons of decorum. Because of this, Daenerys instantly knew something was horribly wrong when she opened her eyes to see Grey standing over her, a worried look on his usually stoic face. She slipped on a robe and he led her to her father’s private offices.

 

His large office was crowded with people, most of whom were familiar faces to Daenerys. Her father, Aerys, King of England, looked far from regal sitting behind his desk with his head in his hands and his thinning silver hair messy from sleep. Many of the other household staff was there and they were quiet when the Princess walked in.

 

“Father?” Daenerys asked softly as she walked over to him. She glanced at the gilded clock on his desk that told her it was nearing three in the morning. She wasn’t particularly close to her father, but she ventured a hand on his shoulder. He lifted his head up and looked at her, the red rings around his eyes betraying that he had been crying.

 

“There’s been an accident…” her father rasped out. Daenerys’ eyes scanned the framed pictures on his desk. The one of him and her mother on his coronation day. The family portrait of all of them, taken shortly before their mother passed. Her brothers Rhaegar and Viserys in uniform. Her stomach instantly felt as if it were going to drop out of her body.

 

The door opened and a few men walked in, but Daenerys only recognized one of them. Captain Jorah Mormont, her brother Rhaegar’s equerry and private secretary led the others towards her and her father. She was used to seeing Captain Mormont in uniform, but tonight the sleeves of his white button down shirt were rolled up past his elbows and he wore no tie or coat.

 

“Your highness, I have an update.” He began and Aerys, in frustration, slammed his fist on the desk for him to hurry up and tell it.

 

“Prince Viserys has been located. He is in Kabul and is safe. He’ll be on his way back here within the hour.” Jorah began. His eyes darted to Daenerys and she was overwhelmed by the sadness they held. “As for Prince Rhaegar, his unit in Jalalabad has been located and there are only two survivors – one of them is Captain Jamie Lannister, his royal guard, but he is in critical condition. His entire arm was blown off in the blast. Your highness, Prince Rhaegar is no longer with us.”

 

Daenerys’ entire world suddenly felt encapsulated in a bubble, as if she was drowning underwater and couldn’t see nor hear anything. She could vaguely make out Captain Mormont continuing on about the terrorist attack in Afghanistan, and the hundreds of others dead. About how Rhaegar died serving his country. But it didn’t matter. Her father’s head was back in his hands and he was crying. And she felt dizzy – so dizzy. The last thing she head was Captain Mormont’s concerned voice before she collapsed onto the floor.

 

The week between that moment and today became a blur for Daenerys. Grey was able to pick her up from besides her father’s desk and carry her back to her room to rest that night. Viserys returned to Buckingham early the next morning, visibly shaken, pale, and weary. The remains of Rhaegar were gathered, identified, and flown back to London. Jamie Lannister was flown from the military’s critical care unit to the best hospital in the city. All around the palace, plans were being made for the funeral, and Daenerys rarely got out of bed.

 

All she could do was think about her brother, and how it had been eight months since she last saw him.

 

Unlike Viserys, Rhaegar was always kind and patient with her, especially when she was much younger. Despite being ten years her senior at 31 and the heir to the throne, he always made time for her and never acted entitled. He was her rock when their mother passed away when she was 11, tragically drowning while on vacation with their father in the South of France. Rhaegar and Daenerys’ relationship with Aerys changed dramatically after her passing, not feeling their father did enough to save her. She was sweet and kind, loved by all of England as the Queen Consort, and revered for her humanitarian work and their father could be cold and calculating. Daenerys often bitterly wondered if the people of Britain put up with Aerys knowing that they would eventually have Rhaegar to look forward to as King, the second image of their mother.

Rhaegar was Daenerys’ biggest champion in all of her endeavors. He taught her how to ride and play polo, even though King Aerys deemed is a ‘man’s sport’, and how to drink any guy under the table if need be. He protected her from nudges that she should get a boyfriend and allowed for her to have some time to grow up by constantly occupying the tabloids. It was unintentional, but she was always thankful that she wasn’t always in the spotlight. But now – she knows all eyes will be on her.

 

Rhaegar always looked forward to serving in the British military and although she wasn’t there with him in his last moments, knows that he did everything he could to help others during the unplanned attack and was brave until the end. Aerys always wanted him and Viserys out of harm’s way in their military positions, but Rhaegar always fought that. Prince or not, he never wanted to pull rank and enjoyed the camaraderie with his unit.

 

And one of the saddest bits of it all is Lyanna. Rhaegar had confided in Daenerys that he intended on proposing to his girlfriend of five years after he returned home from his latest tour in the Middle East. One more month and things might have been so different. Daenerys was the one who had to suffer through the call to Lyanna Stark and tell her. Aerys wanted nothing to do with it. He had never been fond of the Duke and Duchess of Norfolk, but they did have royal blood in them and were as noble a family as any. Daenerys invited Lady Lyanna and her entire family to London for the funeral, including her much older brother Eddard and his wife Catelyn. Lyanna, through tears, thanked Daenerys, who in another world would have been her sister-in-law someday, and promised all of the Starks would be there.

 

And today, as promised, they were all there for the funeral at Westminster Abbey. She recognized the Starks with their flashes of red hair in the ornate pews on either side of the aisle. Daenerys, Viserys, and Aerys sat at the head of the church, patiently waiting on the procession to bring Rhaegar’s remains, covered with the Royal Standard. Viserys, sitting next to her in his jet-black Gucci suit, leaned over to her and whispered that it wouldn’t be long now.

 

She looked around the crowded church and her heart ached. It seemed surreal to see so many people in the same place, all for her dead brother. Prime Minister Tyrion Lannister was near the front, looking somber. He had always been a supporter of her father, and was no doubt thankful that his brother had survived the attack as well. To his left is his sister, Duchess of Cleveland, Lady Cersei Baratheon and her larger than life husband, Robert. Their three golden-haired children sat quietly besides them. It had been ages since Daenerys had seen them – since the oldest was maybe four. They looked so much like their mother.

 

Beyond them were the Duchess of Kent, Lyssa Arryn and her son, Lord Robin. Her husband, Jon, Dean of Westminster, was standing behind Daenerys, waiting to preside over the ceremony. On the other side, the Duke and Duchess of York, Mace and Alerie Tyrell and their beautiful daughter, Lady Margaery.

 

There were others too – those from the House of Commons and the House of Lords. She saw Edmure Tully representing the Conservatives, Davos Seaworth from Labour, and Varys – she could never remember his last name, from the Liberal Democrats. There was also a large showing from the military, including Rhaegar’s General, Barristan Selmy.

 

Finally, Daenerys let her eyes roam to the Starks. Eddard looked so much older than when she last saw him, as did Catelyn, the lines apparent around their eyes even from her vantage point. Lords Rickon and Bran had come out of boyhood, but were not 18 yet. Lady Arya looked uncomfortable in her black dress, her eyes sharp and darting around, and her sister, Sansa, just a few years older than Daenerys, was as poised as Daenerys wished she felt inside right now. Her long red hair was done up in an exquisite French knot and her modest black dress somehow seemed nothing short of glamorous on her. To her right were her older brothers, Jon and Robb, friends of Rhaegar’s. And then – Lyanna. She couldn’t be missed. Beautiful flowing brown hair, a heart-shaped face with delicate features, and her lace handkerchief constantly dabbing at her nose and eyes.

 

Daenerys wanted to hug Lyanna. She had been crying herself for days and it comforted her to know someone else was just as sad.

 

She was pulled out of her thoughts by the gun salute outside of the church that announced her brother’s arrival. She stood, trying to hold Visery’s hand in a show of support, but he pulled away. She looked to her father, who was blinking back tears as the procession breached the threshold of church. ‘God Save the King’ played as the casket was slowly marched forward to the position it would rest at for three days, to lay in state for the public to mourn her brother as well.

 

The first two pallbearers were Captain Mormont, looking as if he hadn’t slept all week, and Captain Lannister, with the right sleeve of his black suit hanging limp, reminding everyone of the arm he had just lost. He looked as if he shouldn’t be carrying a casket, let alone standing upright at all, but Daenerys respected that, as his Royal Guard, he was staying next to her brother until the very end.

 

The six pallbearers placed Rhaegar’s casket in the middle of the church and then filed up to the front, the first to give their condolences to the Targaryens. Jamie Lannister kneeled in front of Daenerys and kissed her hand. She could see the sweat on his brow and the haunted look in his eye as he whispered his ‘sorry for your loss’ and moved on to the Prince and King. Captain Mormont was next, the stubble of his slight beard scratching against her hand as he kissed it. He didn’t say a word to her, just looked up at her with the same look he gave her the night he told them all her brother was dead. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze before he pulled away and she was greeted by one of Rhaegar’s university friends.

 

The funeral seemed to take hours. The music, the psalms, the readings, the speeches – soon it all became too much for Daenerys and all she could focus on was holding herself in a perpetual state of paralysis so as to not cry. The entire thing was televised, being watched by millions, and she wanted to seem respectful and strong, not like the weak 21 year old she was. Not like the normal sister who had just lost a brother. Her father had told her how to compose herself, and she did as told. Despite a few leaks from her eyes during particularly moving sentiments, she held it together. She would cry for days later, just as she had cried for days before.

 

Finally, when it was all over, she found herself in a black town car with Viserys, heading back to the palace, with a long line of identical cars in a caravan behind them. All of the noble families, military generals, Rhaegar’s closest friends, and politicians had been invited back for a small gathering. Although it wouldn’t be a happy affair by any means, Daenerys still didn’t feel social and hoped that she could makes her rounds and then maybe talk to Lyanna in private.

 

Her plans to fly under the radar were quickly shattered when Grey found her not long after the crowd had gathered in Picture Gallery, nibbling on hors d’oeuvres and sharing fond memories of Rhaegar. He said that the King requested her presence and walked her to his office. It was odd to find him already back at work, scribbling something as his Chief of Staff and Head of Council, Petyr Baelish, patiently waited next to his desk.  

 

“Come in, Dany,” he said without looking up. Not many people called her that. Her mother had long ago, and he only used it when he was in a particularly decent mood. She followed his orders and stepped further inside of his office. Viserys sat on a chair with his Private Secretary and Equerry, Melisandre, standing next to him. Daenerys simultaneously always felt uneasy around her and also bad for her, considering her brother was such an arse. Although she had a high-ranking position in the household, he basically used her as a glorified assistant. Beyond that, the only other person in the room was Captain Mormont.

 

“Father, we should be out there,” Viserys sighed, his voice whiny and annoyed. He asked Melisandre for another sparkling water and she stepped out to fetch it. Although Dany didn’t agree with his delivery, she did think her brother had a point. They should be with their guests, mourning their loss.

 

“There will be time for that, but right now, there is business to attend to.” Aerys continued and signed another paper, handing it to Baelish. “Viserys, I am signing the declaration that you will become the next King of England should anything happen to me. Due to the nature of Rhaegar’s death, you are henceforth excused of your military duties and will take up Rhaegar’s quarters here. Since Captain Lannister is still convalescing, we will need to find you a Royal Guard for the Interim.”

 

Daenerys watched Viserys’ face change from annoyed to pleased. It made her nauseous. One of the things she disliked about him was his greed. She could see the wheels turning in his mind at the thought of being King one day.

 

“Your highness, I would be honored to be the Prince’s Royal Guard,” Jorah Mormont cleared his throat and spoke up. Aerys looked up at him and waved his hand dismissively. “I propose Captain Sandor Clegane for Viserys. Captain Mormont, you are now appointed Private Secretary for the Princess. Dany – Rhaegar had a small list of things he wanted if something were to happen to him. Captain Mormont moving to your service was one of them.”

 

Daenerys looked across the room at her new advisor, who gave her a polite nod. She was touched that Rhaegar had thought of her, though it seemed an odd request. She was sure the other items on his list must have to do with Lyanna.

 

“You’ll also be moving out of Buckingham and taking up the residence in Kensington. Captain Mormont will follow you, as will Torgo Nudho and some staff of your choosing.” Her father continued. He was all business, beckoning both her and her brother forward to sign papers changing the order of succession to Aerys, Viserys, and Daenerys and for their new residencies. When they were finished, he dismissed them all and asked Grey to bring Lyanna to him, alone.

 

“I’m honored to be at your service, Princess.”

 

Daenerys, already lost in thought again as they left the King’s offices, looked up to find Captain Mormont standing besides her.

 

“It is kind of Rhaegar to make sure you stay employed,” she tried to lighten the mood, but it fell flat and she blushed at how it sounded, “ I just mean, I know he thought very highly of you.”

 

“He also thought very highly of you, Princess. I’ve enjoyed my service to the Royal Family. No complaints here.” He gave her a small smile to attempt to ease her discomfort.

 

“Thank you, Captain Mormont.”

 

“Jorah, please just Jorah.” He asked of her. He had gathered many titles throughout his years – Captain, KBE…but he had never been so fussy as to enjoy them. “I’ll start making arrangements to have your things moved to Kensington tomorrow.”

 

She thanked him and the parted, both going their separate ways out into the crowd of people, each mourning the one they had lost.


	2. Dear Princess

“We were going to get married…” Lyanna’s voice trailed off, almost wistfully as she sat on Daenerys’ bed. She had waited for Lady Stark to come out of her meeting with her father so they could talk alone.

 

“I know. He told me.” Daenerys reached for the woman’s hand and held it. “It would have been the wedding of the century. The two kindest people I know together – you two were perfect.”

 

This brought a small, sad smile to Lyanna’s face, “I know the King never approved of him and I, but he was surprisingly nice to me. About the house and title and everything.”

 

Daenerys nodded. She had been stunned when Lyanna told her about her talk with the King. Lyanna was going to move into one of the smaller residencies behind Kensington Palace and her title was to change from Lady of Norfolk to Duchess of Sussex, an honor Rhaegar wanted for her as a last wish. Her brother had it scribbled down in a notebook found among his possessions at the military base camp, along with the note about Captain Mormont moving to Daenerys’ service. The only other object found was a small, black jewelry box, containing an engagement ring for Lyanna that Rhaegar had been carrying around with him as a reminder of his future with her. King Aerys gave Lyanna the ring and Daenerys was mesmerized by the sparkle of it on her finger. She knew her friend would never take it off. For an instant, a flash of selfishness ran through her and she wished her brother had left her something tangible as well. All he bequeathed to her was the service of a man she barely knew. It only took a second to push the jealousy from her mind.

 

“We’ll be living so close to one another. We were almost to be family. There isn’t any reason why we can’t remain nearly as such,” Daenerys didn’t have many friends besides her best friend from Uni, Missi. She looked up to Lyanna like the older sister she never had.

 

“Agreed.” Lyanna smiled, trying to hold back a fresh wave of tears. “It is odd though, about Rhaegar wanting Captain Mormont to be your private secretary. A high honor for him, of course – being an advisor to a Prince and now a Princess – but still odd for him to make it a special request, something so important to him that he needed to write it down in case…”

 

Daenerys fell back onto the plush pillows, wiping her eyes. Both of them knew how Lyanna’s sentence ended. “He was always looking out for me. Maybe this is his way of making sure he can when he’s not around. Captain Mormont is trained military, ex MI6, and has more medals of valor than I can count. It’s why he was brought on for my brother in the first place.”

 

“Yes, but not to protect him…that was Jamie Lannister’s job – and the poor man got his right side practically blown off for it, poor thing. Mormont’s just an advisor.” Lyanna corrected.

 

“Not _just_ ,” Daenerys couldn’t pinpoint why she was suddenly defensive of him. “I just haven’t had an equerry before since I was away at Uni. Just Grey. I wouldn’t even know what to do with him.”

 

“Or to him.” Lyanna giggled, wiping away tears as well. It put her in a better mood to feel like she was just having a normal girl chat with Dany, like they often used to. It gave her something other than the heartbreak to focus on for a moment.

 

“Shush!” Daenerys playfully swatted at Lyanna, shocked that she would even insinuate such a thing. “We’ve exchanged a maximum of seven words, and I am certainly _not_ interested.”

 

“Which is fine and many will be grateful for – I noticed my niece staring at him, so you would have competition anyway,” Lyanna rolled over so she faced Daenerys, “And besides – I know my brother isn’t just here to mourn Rhaegar. Him and Cat didn’t care about him like I do. He brought the whole bloody family down here to start marrying them off to you and Viserys.”

 

“ _Of course he did_ ,” Dany groaned. Thank God Bran and Rickon were too young – that just left Robb and Jon., “It has to be me then, right? I wouldn’t wish a lifetime of hell with Viserys on Arya or Sansa.”

 

“You’d be surprised. My youngest niece has no interest in men and no want for power – but Sansa is a different story. I know we both view Viserys differently, but with things how they are now --- he’s going to be the King of England one day.” Lyanna could barely stomach the thought and sighed, looking at Dany’s beautiful naturally platinum blonde hair falling over her shoulders. “I think you all are much too young – at your age I would never be ready for such a thing. But it’s all Ned talked about on the way down here – how you or Viserys need to start making babies and give England something to be happy about.”

 

“That’s a bunch of shite…”

 

“Why do you think your father just gave you Kensington and Viserys full reign of the palace? You need your separate spaces for separate families,” Lyanna finished her point and closed her eyes, feeling the deep sadness overtake her again.

 

“ _Fuck_.” Daenerys knew it was completely un-princess-like, but she knew Lyanna was dead on with her assumptions and she certainly didn’t need to be set up for marriage during the funeral services of her beloved brother by her father or some other entitled nobles. _The gall of some people._

**~o0o~**

 

“Your Grace,” Lord Robb Stark inclined his head towards Daenerys as he approached her with two glasses of wine, handing one to her.

 

“Lord Stark, thank you for coming,” Daenerys said politely and took a tiny sip of the wine. She normally never drank wine, preferring Guinness or whiskey, like her brother. Lyanna had eventually coaxed her out of her bedroom after their talk and made her rejoin the wake. It had gone late into the afternoon and was almost evening now, but still everyone stayed. They would serve a formal dinner soon and no one wanted to miss that under any circumstances. The dry wine choked her and Daenerys regretted venturing out into the fray almost instantly.

 

“I’m really sorry about your brother… I can’t imagine…” he continued. It was hard for Daenerys to be around him, let alone look at him. The same age as Rhaegar, it just didn’t seem fair that her brother’s life was cut short and there Robb was, vibrant and healthy and happy. But she forced herself to meet his gaze, his dark brown eyes warm and sincere in his condolences and his thick, curly brown hair endearingly unruly.

 

Daenerys found the Stark boys all very genuine considering they were some of the most eligible bachelors in all of England, not to mention fit and handsome on top of it all. Robb especially, but Jon was too – in a quieter way.

 

“Thank you, Robb. It means a lot that your family came all this way,” she thanked him and meant it, eyes darting over to see Duchess Catelyn watching the pair of them like a hawk. “I know you and Rhaegar got on well at Uni. He told me about your times playing football and drinking on the roof of your dormitory. He cared about you.”

 

“Aye, he was a good man, Rhaegar. I just wish I had seen him more. Life -- it just gets in the way sometimes.” Robb’s northern accented voice cracked a bit and he shrugged his shoulders in a guilty way while Daenerys nodded. It still felt so foreign that they were all here, sharing stories about him and he was just…gone.

 

“For what it’s worth, I think you look very beautiful today…” Robb said and it came out awkwardly, almost as if his mother had told him to make sure he fit it into the conversation one way or another. Daenerys couldn’t deny that maybe in another moment there would be attraction between them, but it just wasn’t the time or the place, and the wine was making her light-headed. Her eyes scanned the room for an exit strategy but came up empty-handed. What she did see with her idiot brother on the far side of the Picture Gallery, drunk and hitting unsuccessfully on Lady Margaery Tyrell, who was miles out of his league. To her credit, she seemed to be humoring him. From what Daenerys knew of Margaery, she liked attention and the position of future Queen consort certainly came with quite a lot of it.

 

 _Where the hell is his wrangler?_ Daenerys thought of pale Melisandre, his quirky equerry. The whole point of her was to prevent incidents like this. It made her heart ache for Rhaegar even more seeing the new future King of England act like a fool.

 

“I’m on it, Princess.” A light touch to the back of her arm and a low voice in her ear and then Captain Mormont began gracefully making his way across the room, as if nothing was wrong, to get to Viserys. Lady Margaery looked grateful for the excuse to leave as Jorah took the drink away from Viserys and whispered something in his ear. Her brother straightened up and fixed his jacket. She was both impressed and a little frightened – Viserys usually didn’t listen to anyone on the first go-around.

 

“Daenerys?”

 

“Oh, yes, sorry, what were you saying?” Her attention snapped back to Robb, who was none the wiser that anything out of the ordinary was going on.

 

“That you look lovely…” he tried in earnest again. She wanted to roll her eyes and say ‘ _It’s a bloody wake Robb. For my brother’,_ but she thought of Rhaegar and her mother. If Viserys couldn’t be a good representative of the Crown, she needed to be.

 

“I’m very flattered. Thank you. But I’m afraid I must say a few more ‘hello’s’ before dinner” she gave him a smile and excused herself. _One awkward conversation down, only fifty more to go…_

****

**~o0o~**

“You are handling yourself remarkably well, Princess, unlike your brother…” Prime Minister Tyrion Lannister finished his third glass of red wine and set the empty crystal down, where one of the servers refilled it within seconds.

 

Daenerys thanked him and inwardly agreed. Tyrion was blunt, but she supposed it was the main reason he and her father got on so well with one another – having spent an hour together each week for four years during Tyrion’s tenure so far. She admired that he didn’t mince words, and was generally pleasant to be around, considering he usually sat next to her at dinners like this. The Prime Minister’s place is to the left of the Princess, with the King to her right and a guest of honor to his right. Tonight it was Eddard Stark, the highest-ranking Duke in the room based on province. The next space would have been reserved for Rhaegar, but now Viserys sat in her brother’s chair.

 

“Thank you. I won’t deny its one of the most difficult days of my life.” The general din around the long table, filled with over fifty guests, made vulnerable conversations rather easy to have.

 

“Oh, I’m sure, your Grace. I’d be surprised if it wasn’t,” he looked up at her and gestured his glass toward her before taking a sip. He was a very short man – his eye level just below hers and she was small in frame as well, but his dynamic personality made him one of England’s most beloved PM’s in a long while. “Although the circumstances are hideous, I will say I love these dinners. Watching everyone… the entertainment can’t be beat. Look…”

 

He nodded to their right, across the table and diagonal from them, “Those two…half in love with you already.”

 

Dany followed Tyrion’s gaze and met Robb and Jon Stark’s, who both quickly averted their eyes back to the soup course in front of them. Tyrion chuckled.

 

“They are sweet…” Daenerys said diplomatically, although knowing they were both looking at her made her blush.

 

“Sweet is…one way of putting it,” Tyrion continued. “Princess, the incredible thing about you is that you are constantly considering yourself adjacent to the royal family when you are _the only daughter_ of King Aerys. Especially now, I am sorry to say, you are going to become the center of attention. You are twenty-one and too beautiful for your own good. Prepare yourself for it now and don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

 

Daenerys almost choked on the bisque. _There was that bluntness again_.

 

“And there…” he continued on as he hadn’t just dealt her a large dose of reality, “My sister, bored out of her mind with her slovenly husband. My God.”

 

Daenerys took a discreet glance towards the other end of the table, where Duchess Cersei Baratheon was barely picking at her food, looking like she had lost her appetite. It didn’t matter – the Duke, Robert, was shoveling enough bread for both of them into his body faster than anyone she had ever seen. Their children sat quietly to her left, except for the oldest, Joffrey if she remembered correctly, was whinging about something.

 

“She hates him, did you know that?” Tyrion washed down his words with another sip of wine, “Most of the people in this room hate each other. Beyond myself and Lady Lyanna, I would venture to guess not many outside of your family and the royal staff felt the way we did about Rhaegar. Not many of them have a caring bone in their body to be sure.”

 

“Your brother cared for Rhaegar, certainly…”

 

“Oh of course,” Tyrion looked over at Captain Lannister, struggling to eat with one hand and still look composed while doing so. “He’s the exception, not the rule. It pains me to say it but positions of power often show you who you can really trust. Ahh.. chicken…delightful.”

 

The conversation paused as they were served the main course, the servers standing behind them, waiting at attention, all removed their soup bowls and replaced them with delicately roasted chicken and carrots in unison.

 

“ _We should discuss it, your Grace. It’s been a moot point for so long now, but certainly circumstances have changed_.”

 

As she cut into her chicken, Daenerys overheard Lord Eddard’s conversation with her father just to the right of her.

 

“ _Not now Ned. Tomorrow. The day after, but by God not now.”_

“And who is little Lady Sansa Stark looking at, I wonder…” Tyrion was back to people watching, his running commentary drawing Daenerys back in and making her forget about the exchange happening next to her. She found the red-head and followed her gaze across the table to Captain Mormont, who was deep in conversation with Grey to his left. Tyrion and Daenerys both met eyes with Sansa, who showed no embarrassment at being caught out. “Your new Private Secretary, I see.”

 

“What do you know about him?” Daenerys ventured. Everyone seemed very interested in him, especially Lady Stark. She felt a bit bad that she had never properly gotten to know him, even though he had been with Rhaegar as his private secretary for ten years, since he was her age.

 

“Oh, lots, dear Princess,” Tyrion smiled at her, “I know lots about a lot of people. That’s why I’m Prime Minister, now isn’t it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you readers for your kind comments! I hope you are enjoying! What do you think of Sansa? What does Tyrion know about Jorah? And will Ned Stark be successful in setting one of his sons up with Dany?


	3. The Letter

“I can tell you what I know if you want…he isn’t much of a talker. At least not with me anyway,” Tyrion sighed and pushed his plate away from him before turning back to Daenerys. He hadn’t eaten much. She supposed he prioritized wine above all.

 

She feigned mild interest, but inside she was suddenly desperate for more information about the man who would from henceforth be scheduling out her every day, accompanying her on every trip, and being her constant companion. “I wonder if he talked much with Rhaegar…”

 

“I know for a fact he did. From what I’ve surmised his love for Rhaegar is second only to yours. And your mother’s love of course, God rest that lovely woman’s soul,” Tyrion continued. It made sense to Daenerys – Captain Mormont seemed broken since the night they all found out. “They were extremely close. Rhaegar helped him through his horrible divorce about five years ago.”

 

“Oh…” Daenerys put her fork down. The chatter around them increased as people finished their meals and turned their attention to their drinks.

 

“Terribly messy the whole thing was. She came away with mostly everything – and let me tell you that M16 agents and Prince’s secretaries make a salary no one could scoff at. He’s a bit unlucky in love, poor bloke,” Tyrion picked up his ever-filled wine glass and took a large gulp. She could see his eyes were starting to become glassy.

 

“How sad,” Dany ventured a quick glance down the table to see Captain Mormont now conversing with the Duke of York. Mace Tyrell’s mustache twitched at something amusing he must have said. “What did he do for MI6?”

 

“That I do not know. He started with them when he was thirty, after seven years in the military – only stayed about five years and was knighted by your father for his services there. Staying too long in that line of work isn’t easy for any man. I know it was an easy choice when he was offered the position with Rhaegar. I’ll tell you one thing, your Grace, I always feel a bit safer when his is in the room. You are lucky to have him.”

 

“So it seems…” Daenerys lost her train of thought when the entrée dishes were cleared and plates of Banoffee pie were set in front of all of them. Entirely informal for the occasion, but clearly Chef’s nod to Rhaegar’s favorite guilty pleasure of a dessert. The gesture made her throat tighten with emotion.

**~o0o~**

After dinner, Daenerys stood next to her father and brother and thanked everyone, one by one, for attending the services. They said farewell to some and simply goodnight to others. Those who had travelled from anywhere outside London were given rooms in Buckingham and all the amenities they could possibly need. No one could ever say King Aerys wasn’t a good host.

 

Rheagar’s body would lay in state in Westminster for the next three days and the news coverage would continue, day and night, for weeks to come. There would be more guests arriving – foreign dignitaries and Presidents, and gifts and condolences sent from around the world. Daenerys knew she would be reminded of her beloved brother’s death every second of every day for the foreseeable future and that thought nagged at her as she shook hand after hand, nodding with a fixed smile.

 

“Princess, I am so, so sorry,” Captain Jamie Lannister’s measured voice snapped her back to reality as he bowed in front of her, one of the last in line. She could see the regret and sadness etched into every line on his face. He looked easily ten years older than she knew he was.

 

“Captain Lannister, I know you never would have let harm befall my brother. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. You both were. And you paid dearly for it. There’s nothing you could have done.” Daenerys promised him. She wanted to hug the man. To sit with him and ask him so many questions about her brother, but now was not the time. She wondered if there ever would be a good time for that.

 

“It should have been me instead. He was a great man and would have been a great King one day. Goodnight.” He gave her a nod and stepped to the side. Within a few more minutes, her duties as a Princess were relieved and she could finally shed the royal façade. She found Lyanna and gave her a long, tearful hug before returning to her room on the opposite side of the castle from their guests and falling into a fitful sleep with Grey standing watch outside of her door.

 

**~o0o~**

“Princess! Breakfast!” Gillian, Daenerys’ ladies’ maid’s voice came muffled from outside her door, followed by her customary two knocks. It wasn’t enough to fully rouse Dany and she sighed groggily when the girl entered.

 

“Morning, Gilly,” Daenerys spoke softly, using the girls’ preferred nickname, her voice a bit raspy from crying so much the day before. The sweet brunette proceeded to set down the silver tray with her breakfast and draw open her curtains to let in the filtered light of the grey London morning. Gilly was a welcome sight every morning – always positive and kind, even in the worst of circumstances. After her talk with Tyrion the night before, Daenerys was starting to regret not getting to know those who worked directly for her more and silently vowed to work on that. Rhaegar had formed such a close bond with so many of those who worked directly around him and Daenerys knew he was all the better for it.

 

“Will you be staying in your pyjamas or would you prefer to get dressed before your meeting with Captain Mormont?” Gilly turned towards Daenerys, hands clasped in front of her expectantly.

 

“What meeting?”

 

Gilly’s eyes shifted to the door, “Mr. Baelish informed me that you are to have morning check-ins with Captain Mormont at nine each day. You can hold them here or in the sitting room.”

 

“What time is it?”

 

“Um…eight fifty-five, your Grace… _I’m sorry_ – Grey said I should let you sleep…” Gilly saw the panic on Daenerys’ face and instantly began to apologize.

 

“I’m not angry Gilly, just getting used to all of this… you can send him in here. And my robe, please?” Gilly handed her the robe before giving her a few moments of privacy. Dany shrugged the robe over her shoulders and did her best to smooth down her hair before starting in on her breakfast. She was halfway through a rasher of bacon when a more confident knock on her door signaled his arrival.

 

Captain Mormont stepped into her bedroom, wearing an impeccably tailored grey suit, crisp white shirt, and perfectly done tie. He wore his KBE ribbon pinned above his heart, next to two military medals of valor. It was his usual uniform – one Daenerys had seen him in hundreds of times by now alongside her brother, but she felt as if she was really noticing the details for the first time.

 

“Good morning, Princess…” he began.

 

“Daenerys, _please_.” She looked up at him, a teacup full of strong black tea in her hand.

 

“Your Grace, I’m afraid I shouldn’t.”

 

“Did Rhaegar make you call him by any of his titles?” she countered, raising an eyebrow.

 

“No, your Grace, he did not.”

 

“If you used his given name, you will use mine, just as you have asked me to use yours” she finished with a small smile that he returned.

 

“You already remind me of him. He used to take his meetings in his pyjamas too,” Jorah told her, and the comparison warmed her more deeply than the tea in her hands ever could.

 

“How do these meetings usually go? You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve only ever had Grey and there weren’t official morning check-ins at Uni – much to my father’s chagrin,” Daenerys told him. She noticed he was carrying a rather hefty folder under his left arm.

 

“I’ll do my best to make them as painless as possible,” he told her, stepping forward and handing her the unmarked folder. “Inside you’ll find your daily schedule, a list of upcoming special events, and a copy of any correspondence that has gone out from the palace for you to be aware of. Most days I’ll include a summary of current events in the news, but that’s hardly necessary right now.”

 

Daenerys flipped through the papers, landing on a thick, clipped stack at the back, “What are these?”

 

“Petyr, myself, and Melisandre have taken the liberty of splitting up the charities and causes Rhaegar supported between you and Viserys. I know you already have some of your own, but those are the ones you’ll be working with now.”

 

“Thank you, I’m happy to…” she paused for a moment to sniff back the rush of emotion she felt. Cleary Jorah had taken care to choose ones that fit her interests. He already seemed to know more about her than she did about him.

 

“Daenerys,” it was the first time he said her name and the weight he placed upon each syllable and the way it sounded coming out of his mouth made her look up at him and commanded all of her attention, “If I may just say that I loved your brother very dearly. I always will. I’m not his blood as you are, but in my own way I know the pain you are feeling from his lost and I am very, sincerely sorry.”

 

The gentle smile that followed his condolences made Daenerys want to weep. She knew that he understood her in a way no one else did. It made her trust him instantly.

 

“Thank you, Jorah. Your words are very kind. I’m sorry for your loss too. I know Rhaegar valued your friendship.” She took a deep breath to stop herself from breaking down and cleared her throat, flipping back to her day’s schedule. Her eyes widened as she read it. “Is…is this serious?”

 

“I’m afraid it is. Viserys couldn’t wait to start his move. He was up quite early this morning.” Daenerys detected more than a hint of annoyance in Jorah’s tone. “The King is insistent that the two of you complete your respective moves as soon as possible. Staff has been working overnight at Kensington to prepare it for you. As soon as we are on our way over there, they’ll pack up this room and move your things for you.”

 

Daenerys looked up at Jorah and shook her head. “I’m sorry – I’m not fussed about the move. I’d rather it be over with quickly and I’m eager to get out of here, if I’m being honest. I mean…am I seriously hosting Sansa Stark for tea this afternoon?”

 

“And then dinner back here with your brother, father, and the rest of the Starks, yes.” Jorah looked a bit sheepish. “Don’t shoot the messenger. This particular itinerary came directly from Petyr. The social obligations will settle down when everyone leaves in a few days, I promise.”

 

Daenerys nodded and closed the folder. She had gone from being exempt from most social obligations to hosting her own at her new residence. It made her miss her time at university that much more.

 

“I’ll be waiting for you downstairs whenever you are ready.” Jorah sensed that she was overwhelmed and took his leave. He said a brief ‘Hello’ to Grey and walked back to his office. It was near Rhaegar’s old rooms and Jorah had spent most of the morning packing it up to transport to his new office at Kensington. The only things not packed were the framed photograph of Rhaegar and him after a polo match, tired, sweaty, and cheering that they had won – both with big smiles on their faces and the sealed envelope delivered to Jorah that morning.

 

The envelope had been found in Rhaegar’s belongings in his units’ military lodgings in Jalalabad. He was nervous to open it – he wanted in some ways to preserve it how it was, with Rhaegar’s messy scrawl of ‘Mormont’ on the front.

 

Jorah sat down into the leather chair behind his desk and gently broke the seal to pull out the folded piece of paper inside.

 

_J –_

_I’ve been meaning to write this down since stationed here. The violence is unbelievable, and I want to be prepared. Just in case._

_There are a few things you should know –_

_First – make sure Lyanna gets the ring. It’s with my things. Make sure she knows how much I love her. And that I always will. Check on her if you can._

_Viserys will be fine. He’s been waiting all his life to be the star of the show. Someone else will need to keep him in check, but it won’t be you. Father will deal with it in his own way, in his own time._

_It is you and Dany I am worried about. Which is why I’ve already told my father that if I die out in this desert, you are going to be Dany’s new right hand. Don’t try and get out of it either – I’ll know – somehow._

_She is going to need someone. I love my little sister more than anything and the only person I could trust her with is you. I know you haven’t spent much time around her but she’s incredible. You’ll see. You are going to need someone too._

_Yes – you are reading this right. This is your mate trying to set you up with my little sister in a letter that you’ll only receive if I’m no longer on this earth. It sounds insane. Hell - it may not even work out, but I know she’s the right type of girl for you and you better stop any wanker from making a move on her – unless it’s you._

_I hope I get to rip this letter up when I return home next month. I hope it will be me and you down at the pub celebrating my engagement._

_If that’s not the case – you’ve been an incredible friend. Just take care of Dany, please._

 

  * _R_



 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your continued reviews -- they make my day!! I am thoroughly enjoying writing this and sharing it. I hope you've enjoyed finding out a little bit more about Dany and Jorah's new arrangement!


	4. Lemon Cakes

Jorah re-read the letter from Rhaegar several times before folding it up and sticking it back in its envelope.

 

“ _What the bloody hell, Rhaegar?”_ Jorah asked the empty office. He had always known of Rhaegar’s fondness for his little sister, but never once had he indicated anything like this. Jorah wondered if it was a rushed, well-intentioned but misplaced thought on Rhaegar’s part; surely in the blistering heat of the Middle East in the middle of active terrorism, anyone could start wishing for best-cast scenarios. Jorah’s own thoughts had gone to some wild places when he had been facing imminent danger both in the service and on classified government missions.

 

Rhaegar wanted Jorah happy, that much he had always known. He had pushed him to continue on after his world all but completely shattered when Lynesse served him the divorce papers. But with Daenerys? Princess Daenerys?

 

There were so many reasons why the thought was inconceivable. Sure, Jorah was knighted and well-respected, but he was still a commoner. And given his current role as her equerry, it would seem like he was trying to take advantage of a trusted position. On top of that, she was fresh out of Uni, far too young for him, and not even remotely interested. Unless Rhaegar knew something that Jorah didn’t, his proposition was laughable.

 

Daenerys was beautiful – anyone could see that. With her long, wavy, naturally platinum blonde hair, small but curvy figure, and inherent charm, everyone wanted to be around her. He certainly wasn’t going to mind working with her every day for all of those reasons, but it would simply be a nice perk of the job. It wouldn’t change anything.

 

Jorah sighed, shook his head, and headed downstairs to wait for the Princess.

 

**~o0o~**

 

“This is all mine?”

 

“Five bedrooms, six bathrooms, kitchen, sun room, living room, drawing room, and private garden. And all of the staff quarters and offices. All of it yours. Not quite as elaborate as Visery’s entire wing of Buckingham, but it should do.” Jorah told Daenerys, watching her take in her new residence with a big smile on her face.

 

“It’s gorgeous.” She continued, standing in the middle of the living room and looking around. It was a massive upgrade from her suite in the palace, even though that had still been the epitome of luxury. But this – this was a home. Something to grow with, settle in, and maybe raise a family in one day. It was made doubly sweet by Kensington’s connection to her mother. Her mother had loved this residence the most and would spend time in the elaborate gardens often or use the orangery for parties. Now, the public facing sector was a beautiful museum, dedicated mostly to her mom’s legacy, with emphasis on her humanitarianism. It made Dany happy that she would be so close to the public in that way – instead of behind big gates in Buckingham.

 

“I’ve been told you can completely redecorate if you’d like…” Jorah continued. The residence had already been refurbished just for her, with multiple prominent British designers working tirelessly on it. He thought they had done rather well. It was an eclectic mix of modern, sleek materials like marble and gold accents, with Louis XIV furniture, rounded out with contemporary art on the walls. Everything was in creams, blush shades, or pale blues.

 

“There’s no need to.” Daenerys finally turned back to him, “And everyone has a space? You, Grey, and Gilly?”

 

“All just as nice as this, yes. We are on the other side of the courtyard with our own separate entrance so you’ll have complete privacy when you wish. I’ll be looking for a live-in chef as well. For now, we have someone on loan from the palace.”

 

Daenerys nodded and sat down on a velvet tufted loveseat, still coming to terms with the new chapter of her life she was about to begin. An entire household to essentially run herself – well – to let Jorah run for her, while she had to fully immerse herself as Princess, and take appointments and attend functions.

 

“Oh…the tea…with Sansa?”

 

“Lady Sansa will be here within the hour. I’m having tea prepared and you’ll take it in the sunroom, if it suits you. I’ll bring her in when she arrives. It’s a bit of a madhouse out there – Grey is dealing with all the paparazzi eager to catch a glimpse of you.” Jorah said gently. In truth, he had an overwhelming amount of work to attend to in setting up the new residence, but he felt a tinge of guilt in just leaving her alone. She seemed a bit lost, looking nervously out the large French windows into the garden, as if everything was about to disappear and she was grasping to mentally capture every moment.

 

“Thank you, Jorah,” she said, her voice distant. He bowed and took his leave to help Grey.

 

**~o0o~**

Daenerys had already made her way to the sunroom when Jorah accompanied Lady Sansa Stark into the room, announced her, and then took his leave. She caught the red-head look back over her shoulder for a moment to watch him walk away before she turned to Daenerys with a smirk.

 

“God, he’s hot, isn’t he?” Sansa said before she curtseyed, “Your Grace.” She then sat herself at the small table across from the Princess, which had been set beautifully for tea.

 

“Thank you for paying me a visit, Lady Sansa. You are the first guest in my new home.” Daenerys ignored her comment about Jorah and returned the pleasantries with a well-practiced smile, but it was far from genuine. She hadn’t interacted with the Lady of Norfolk for some years now, since before she went to university. They were both just girls then, and now they sat, their differences striking. A few years older than Dany, Sansa walked and talked as if she were a Princess. She possessed such a calm, cold, and mysterious air about her that Dany found quite intimidating. Her sleek, vibrant red hair was stick-straight today and parted down the middle. The black McQueen suit she was wearing made her look both chic and edgy at the same time. Daenerys preferred her Jenny Packham dresses in creams, pastels, and the occasional jewel tone. They looked like night and day sitting across from one another in the bright room.

 

“I’ve been wanting to catch up for some time now, actually,” Sansa continued on as she poured her tea and left it black. Daenerys swallowed back her horror. She supposed northerners just did things differently. “Oh…lemon cakes. How thoughtful, these are my favorite.”

 

“I’m glad you like them,” Daenerys said as she took one for herself, making a mental note to thank Jorah for his clear research in planning the menu. “So…what was it that you came to talk to me about?”

 

Daenerys poured herself some tea, added milk, and three lumps of sugar before turning her gaze to Sansa. The Princess often had little patience for beating around the bush, which she inherited from her father and older brother. Viserys, on the other hand, could talk about the weather for an hour with an acquaintance and be fine with it.

 

“Direct, I like that…” Sansa smiled before taking a sip of her tea. “I really wanted to talk about our families. And again, my condolences about Prince Rhaegar. But with all of this sadness, I think there is a silver lining. It has brought our two families into proximity again. I know the King and my father have had their differences, but the King is fair, and he made my father the Duke of Norfolk long ago for a reason. Norfolk and the Crown have had the strongest bond of all of the dukedoms going back centuries. We have respect for one another. And we shouldn’t let that go to waste.”

 

It wasn’t hard for Daenerys to see where she was going with this, so she just nodded and took a bite of her lemon cake. It was too tart and she pushed it away.

 

“What did you come here to propose, Lady Sansa?”

 

“Your brother needs a Princess and my brother needs a Lady. We could be sisters, and our children would be cousins,” Sansa said as if it was already a done deal and Daenerys didn’t care for the coolness of her tone, or the sureness of her words. She hardly knew Sansa and she didn’t trust her - so the thought of being her sister by marriage wasn’t exactly a selling point.

 

“You are interested in Viserys?” Daenerys raised an eyebrow. That was the most entertaining bit of it all. Viserys was such a daft prick and Sansa seemed very much out of his league.

 

“I find him handsome and charming.” Sansa had a great poker face and Daenerys respected that. All of the Targaryens had good genes, but charming?

 

“As do many other noble women. But, if you are as enamored with him as you say, you don’t need my permission,” Daenerys said as she looked straight into Sansa’s eyes, “But it seems he is just one of many men you are enamored with.” Daenerys hadn’t wanted to bring back up Sansa’s initial comment about Jorah, but after today and seeing her stare at him at dinner the night before, there was clearly a pattern. Dany couldn’t pinpoint why it bothered her exactly, but it did.

 

Sansa paused for a moment as she considered Daenerys’ comment with a disconcerting smile on her face. “I’m only interested in your brother”.

 

“Then, Viserys would be very lucky to have a woman like you,” Daenerys conceded to what she knew Sansa wanted to hear, even if she didn’t believe her for a second. The Lady of Norfolk helped herself to another lemon cake.

 

“You are very kind. It’s one of the reasons both of my older brothers are already mad for you,” Sansa steered the conversation out of risky waters and onto the Princess.

 

“People have been saying that, but I’ve yet to hear it from either of them…”

 

“Both Robb and Jon are shy, especially Jon. But once you get to know them…”

 

“Lady Sansa. I appreciate what you are trying to do…but I have no interest in being married for the foreseeable future. My beloved brother just died, everything around me is changing, and it just isn’t on my mind. You are older than me and it seems like that is what you want, but I don't share your feelings.” Daenerys spoke honestly and Sansa nodded.

 

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to come on so strong. I just know my brothers. They are good men and I like to think either of them would make you happy. And you could use some happiness,” Sansa continued on and Daenerys could see she was trying to position herself as her friend.

 

“Thank you. If that is the case, then I look forward to talking to both of them more at dinner tonight.” Daenerys smiled and put her napkin on the table, signaling their tea time was finished. She stood up and Sansa followed – towering over Dany in her heels.

“I hope we will have many more afternoons like this one. It was very enjoyable.” Sansa curtseyed again and Grey, who had clearly been waiting outside of the sunroom, appeared to lead Sansa to the car waiting for her. 

 

“Yes, I would like that. I will see you tonight.” Daenerys offered one last smile as her new acquaintance walked away. Her mother had always told Dany her own spin on the old adage, which was – “keep your enemies close and your friends closer”. Sansa could be a ‘friend’, and she knew that she needed to start forming a deeper relationship with her based on circumstances. But after that meeting, she needed a true friend to confide in. Sansa was Lyanna’s niece, so it couldn’t be her. She needed to talk to her best friend in the entire world – Missy.

 

**~o0o~**

“I went to see your brother…at Westminster. The crowds were unbelievable. Flowers everywhere…have you been since…”

 

“No. But thank you for going. That means a lot to me,” Daenerys sighed into the phone, her legs tucked under her on the couch in the sitting room, comforted by her best friends’ voice. Missandei was everything to her. They had met at Cambridge and became fast friends. Missy hadn’t been put-off that Daenerys was a Princess. She didn’t treat her any differently or try to befriend her for association alone. Her integrity was something Dany valued.

 

“Of course. Can I come see you soon…in your new digs?” Missy’s voice was hopeful on the other end. It had been a month since they had seen one another. Her job as translator to Prime Minister Lannister had her traveling often. Dany couldn’t fault her friend for being a genius with languages – having mastered seventeen of them. She was proud of all she had accomplished so soon after graduation.

 

“Anytime you want. You are always welcome and I miss you. I have _so_ much to tell you”.

 

“Will..uh…Grey be there?”

 

Dany knew her friend well enough to decipher she slightest shift in her tone. It made her smile. “Yes, my security detail who you have a fat crush on lives with me full-time now. You’ll absolutely see him. But I’d _hope_ you’d be more interested in seeing me…”

 

“Of course, Dany. Now tell me what is going on. Your texts had me worried.”

 

“ _Ugh_ , so I had tea with Lady Sansa Stark this afternoon…” Daenerys began when she heard someone clear their throat. She glanced over to the doorway and saw Captain Mormont standing there, looking as if he needed to tell her something, but also not wanting to interrupt her, “Missy, I have to go. I’ll text you later…plan to come over this weekend, alright?”

 

“I’m sorry for interrupting, Daenerys, but your father called. He said he’d like you at the palace a little earlier this evening than previously planned. Gilly has a dress ready in your room whenever you are.” His low, slightly rough voice left no room for negotiation and the Princess had to resign to the fact that the final hurdle of her Stark-filled day was fast approaching.

 

“Will you be joining?”

 

“Unfortunately no, I will not be.”

 

“More like _fortunately_ for you.”

 

“Lady Stark seems pleasant.”

 

“Does she?” Daenerys cocked an eyebrow at his admission.

 

“Grey informed me that the two of you seemed to be having a nice chat.”

 

“Then I will have to tell Grey that although his job is to stand outside my door and that often means hearing everything I say, he should not be passing the contents of those conversations on to you.” Daenerys was only half-teasing as she looked across the room at her equerry.

 

“My apologies, your Grace. I probed him for it. You didn’t seem particularly happy to be having tea with her and I wanted to make sure you weren’t upset.” Jorah stood up a little straighter and his address to her turned formal. She couldn’t decide if she was annoyed or flattered that he cared about that.

 

“How did you know to serve lemon cakes? Did you know they were Lady Stark’s favorite?”

 

“It’s my job to make you look like the best hostess I possibly can. You shouldn’t have to worry about details like that.” His blue eyes met hers for a second and then he averted them.

 

“And you did a wonderful job. But my conversations are private. Maybe they weren’t for you with Rhaegar, but they are here.” Daenerys ended the conversation and stood up to go get dressed for dinner. She knew her tone had been a bit harsh and maybe in any other circumstance she wouldn’t have cared who heard them. But Sansa Stark was starting to annoy her and his mention of her bothered Dany. She tried her best to shake it off and headed towards her room.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and for your kind reviews! I love hearing your reactions, thoughts, and predictions and it truly makes me so happy to write this.


	5. A Debt Owed

“I’m sure you know why I need to speak with you before dinner.” King Aerys didn’t look up from his desk when Daenerys walked into his office. He was always in there as of late – tucked away in his private mahogany oasis with the best view of the gardens.

“I don’t, actually.”

“Sit.”

Aerys sighed as his daughter sat down in front of him. He took a moment to look at her and really see her and the woman that she had grown up into. She was dressed in a pale blue chiffon ball gown and her impossibly blonde hair was pulled up in a twist, all serving to accentuate the tiara she had chosen for the occasion.

“That was your mother’s favorite,” he nodded towards the sapphire studded piece. She looked so much like Rhaella that it almost brought tears to his eyes. How he wished he had been a better father to her these last few years. His entire existence since his wife’s death had been focused on preparing Rhaegar for the Crown one day and making sure Viserys kept himself in line. He never worried too much about Daenerys because he never needed to. She excelled at Cambridge, never found herself on the other side of an embarrassing paparazzi shot and always conducted herself flawlessly in social situations. She was everything a King could ask of a Princess and everything a father could ask of a daughter. Sadly, he wasn’t everything she needed him to be.

He should have taken time to prepare her for what he was about to say.

“My dear Daenerys,” he began and gave her a small, sad smile, “It’s no secret what the Starks want and why they have overstayed their welcome here. I know your brother loved Lyanna and she would have made a fine Queen. Not my first choice by any means, but Ned would have been further removed from it all…”

Daenerys was a little annoyed at his comment about her friend, but let it go. Clearly there was bad blood between her father and Lord Stark that she wasn’t privvy to. “You know that Lady Sansa intends to be Queen.”

Aerys laughed, “Let the girl try. You and I both know Viserys won’t go for her, or whatever ‘plan’ she has. But the Starks have an important place in Britain - they have married Kings and Queens throughout our history and we are very much intertwined. I want to preserve that connection, but I don’t trust Ned nor Catelyn. Ned has pull with many members of parliament and Edmure Tully is Cat’s brother – they have the Conservative Party in their hands with that relationship. They need to be kept happy, but if Sansa were to become Queen Consort, Ned would have too much power by default.”

It made perfect sense to Dany, especially after seeing how cunning Sansa was firsthand, and knowing how easily manipulated Viserys could be, it would be as if the Starks were ruling England in all but name. “Why aren’t you having this conversation with Viserys then?”

“There needs to be a Stark and a Targaryen match, and we both know he won’t be involved,” Aerys sighed. “I’m not saying you need to get married anytime soon…”

Daenerys crossed her arms. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “This isn’t the middle ages. This isn’t even the fifties! Princess or not, I’m never going to agree to an arranged marriage, even if it isn’t for a few years. Especially not for politics. If Viserys gets to choose who he wants to be with, then I do as well.”

“ _Dany_ …this is more important than you realize…and you do have a choice. Robb, or Jon…even Bran if that’s who you want. He’s only 17, but in a few years no one will care…”

“Papa…” Daenerys’ voice grew soft as she used an informal endearment she hadn’t in years. It was clear she was trying to hold back tears as her eyes grew red. “If you love me, you can’t just promise my life to someone else. Aren’t we all going through enough right now? Just let Sansa try her games with Viserys and when he rejects her, they will all move on.”

“They won’t move on, Daenerys. I owe something to Eddard Stark and I need you to give those boys a chance. For me. For this family. _For Britain_.” Her father’s voice turned from parental to kingly and she could see him closing himself off. If only her mother could be here now. She would tell him how ridiculous this all sounded.

“Maybe you owe him, but I don’t know what you did to owe him the rest of my life,” Daenerys stood up, glaring at her father, “I’ll see you at dinner.”

**~o0o~**

It was just as Daenerys had feared after her talk with her father – Robb Stark was sitting to her left and Jon Stark across from her at the table. It was obvious the table settings were pre-planned. Sansa was sat next to her mother and father and Aerys, while Viserys was placed at the other end of the table, surrounded by Bran and Rickon.

“Your Grace, I hear we are to be sisters-in-law soon enough,” Arya smirked from the other side of Daenerys.

“ _Arya_!” Lyanna, across from Arya, shot her niece a look that could kill.

“I’m just trying to get to know her Grace better, since neither of my half-wit brothers seem to have working mouths…” Arya laughed. She was a pistol and Lyanna sat back in her chair, already defeated and the main course hadn’t even been served yet. Lyanna gave her friend a look that said _‘I’m sorry’_ as Arya continued. “Daenerys, do you like to hunt?”

Daenerys looked around her end of the table at the faces looking expectantly back at her, and then to Arya, who had chosen to wear a couture silk pantsuit to dinner instead of a ballgown like the others and as royal protocol demanded for such an occasion. “No, Arya, I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Fence?”

“Sorry…no…”

“Do you practice archery?”

Daenerys grimaced and shook her head, striking out again, “Do you ride?”

“Yes,” Arya seemed contented with that. “None of that side-saddle shite I hope?”

“ _Arya_ …” Jon whispered, looking as if he would rather be anywhere else. His curly, jet-black hair fell into his eyes constantly as he ate.

“Talk to her then, if you don’t like my conversation.” The little brunette shrugged and went back to her salad. Daenerys noticed how much she and her brothers, with the exception of Robb, looked like their father. Sansa and Robb clearly took after Lady Catelyn with their auburn hair and high cheekbones.

In truth, Daenerys was fine to talk to Arya all night. She knew next to nothing about the spunky little Lady and it would distract her from the fact that her father was trying to pawn her off onto one of the men sitting next to her. She chanced a glance over at Sansa, who looked incredibly pretty in a deep navy off-the-shoulder number as she spoke animatedly to Aerys, no doubt trying to impress him.

“Your Grace, what did you study at Cambridge?” Robb broke the silence between them all and Daenerys turned to him. He certainly was handsome, especially in a tux – with his dimples and long lashes. 

“Political Science, with minors in the History of Art and Linguistics – those are the classes I met my best friend in,” Daenerys thought fondly of Missy and how she couldn’t wait to be with her that weekend and dissect all of this with her. “You are both Oxford boys, right?”

“Yes, then right into the military.” Jon finally spoke up. He looked as if he were perpetually concerned about something.

“I guess all of our degrees really are useless in our current positions. Just for show.” Daenerys pointed out. She wouldn’t trade those four years for the world, but she wished she could do something more useful with them.

“They were fun for the parties…” Robb said in a low voice, leaning closer to her. He seemed like the party-boy type, if she were being honest. She knew he had excelled in practically every sport offered at Oxford and was captain of many a team. That lent itself naturally to popularity.

“ _A toast_!”

All eyes turned to the Duke of Norfolk as he tapped his knife rather uncouthly against his wine glass to get their attention. Eddard then raised it to the King. “To his Royal Highness, and to the Prince and Princess, and in memory of Prince Rhaegar. Thank you for your hospitality and friendship. I look forward to strengthening these ties in the near future. Long live the King!”

Daenerys reluctantly raised her glass and turned on her fake smile as she toasted to Lord Stark’s thinly veiled threat at her impending marriage to one of his offspring. Viserys shot her the most shit-eating smirk he’d mustered of late and it infuriated her.

“ _Long live the King_!”

Conversation ebbed and flowed throughout the rest of dinner. Viserys entertained Bran and Rickon with some military stories, Sansa and Aerys talked politics while her parents watched on, and Daenerys and Lyanna attempted a conversation while Arya randomly butted in to talk about how the last bloodhound hunt at their castle in Norfolk had gone, with her hound Nymeria tracking down the top stag. Jon was quiet, taking all of it in, and Robb tried his best to relate to Daenerys, but she made sure to be purposefully aloof.

Daenerys found the entire ordeal uncomfortable, except for Lyanna’s sweet, silent looks of encouragement, and even more so when she heard Lady Catelyn’s voice take on a slight edge.

“Pardon me, your Grace, but I don’t see how you could allow someone like him to work for you, let alone be so close to the Princess…”

“Cat, I trust Captain Mormont with my life.”

“Then shouldn’t he have been in Jalalabad with Prince Rhaegar?” Eddard chimed in. Daenerys kept a superficial focus on her conversation while trying her best to listen to theirs. She noticed Sansa was silent and taking it in as well.

“He would have if he could, but that was Captain Lannister’s job. I’m only thankful he is here to serve Daenerys as Rhaegar wanted. He’s a good man. I never believed all that talk about him…” Aery’s waved his hand, clearly wanting to dismiss whatever it was Cat was trying to dredge up.

“What did Captain Mormont do?” Sansa’s sweet voice rung out in curiosity and that’s when Ned shut it down.

“Now’s not the time to go into it, Cat.” He looked at his wife and then King Aerys apologetically, but the comments made both Daenerys and Sansa’s minds turn. “This is the start of new beginnings, not for bringing up the past.”

“Princess?”

Robb’s voice pulled Daenerys fully back to her side of the table. Dessert was being cleared and the night was blessedly drawing to a close.

“I was wondering… since we are headed back up North tomorrow, if I could plan to take you on a date when I’m next in London.” Robb asked her and it was clear he was nervous. Because she couldn’t help herself, she took a glance over at Jon, who was pretending very poorly that he wasn’t listening.

She knew it was coming. This whole dinner was set up for this moment and for her to say yes and walk down a path that the three adults currently sipping their cordials had so perfectly plotted together. But knowing didn’t make the reality of it any easier. Maybe if she were in Uni and met him, she would probably have jumped at the chance. But knowing her father wanted this sucked any romance right out of it.

“That would be lovely. I’m sure we can set something up.”

  **~o0o~**

“Welcome home, Princess.” Grey greeted Daenerys as he opened the car door for her when she arrived back to Kensington just after eleven that night. He walked her to the door and then went off to do a security check around the perimeter. It was their first night all together there, and he had much more area to cover than just a small section of Buckingham.

Daenerys walked into the kitchen as she hadn’t eaten much at dinner and felt a little peckish. She was surprised to see Jorah sitting at one of the bar stools next to the marble island in the center of the room, with a cup of tea and a plate of custard creams next to him. He seemed lost in thought, with his shirtsleeves rolled up and a pair of reading glasses on as he poured over some papers. When her high heels clicked against the tile floor, he looked up.

“How was the dinner?” He asked, taking off his glasses. Her ball gown was a bit unwieldy and she felt silly in a pouf of chiffon and a multi-million-dollar tiara in her new kitchen. She pulled out one of the bar stools on the opposite side of the island from him and did her best to maneuver herself onto it gracefully.

“Do you have any more biscuits?” She ignored his question and he nodded, getting up and pulling a packet out of the cupboard and a plate for her.

“These aren’t half bad. I’m more of a chocolate digestive guy myself, but I was told to stock the shelves with these.”

“Whoever told you that should get a raise.” Daenerys picked up one of the cookies and happily took a bite.

“Baelish?”

“Never mind then.” Daenerys laughed. She wasn’t very fond of her father’s private secretary. Between him and Melisandre, she felt she lucked out with Jorah so far. Although what Lady Catelyn had said at dinner still troubled her. She studied Jorah as he took a sip of his tea and scribbled something on the pad of paper in front of him. His eyes were kind, if not a little tired-looking right now and the 5 o’clock shadow on his face made him look a little bit rugged. But there was nothing about him that even remotely hinted at untrustworthy as Catelyn had insinuated.

“The dinner went poorly then?” Jorah continued. He was trying his best to strike a comfortable tone with her, wanting to get to know her. The job of an equerry was to be an assistant in every way to the royal in question. To know things before they even knew them. To anticipate needs and plan ten steps ahead and build trust.

“You don’t know?” Daenerys seemed confused as she reached into the packet for another biscuit.

“Forgive me, Princess, but I don’t know what you are referring to.”

“That my father told me I need to marry one of the Stark boys.” Daenerys sighed and carefully took her tiara off, placing it in between them. For something so delicate, it was very heavy.

“Ah…” Jorah nodded. He hadn’t known, but he wasn’t surprised either, “The King and Petyr keep Melisandre and I apprised of almost everything. But that was conspicuously left off today’s briefing.”

“Unsurprising that my father would give me next to know warning. Or reasoning.”

Jorah didn’t know what to say. Part of him wanted to tell her he was sorry that something as arcane as an arranged marriage was even being discussed and the other part wanted to argue that Viserys should be shouldering whatever burden was needed, being the heir. Jorah had many opinions about each member of the Royal family after years of service, many of which were directly influenced by so much time with Rhaegar. But he barely knew Daenerys and didn’t want to speak out of turn. Instead, he grabbed his papers and stood up.

“Things will look up in the morning. Good night, Daenerys.” He decided something simple was the best way to leave it. As he walked out of the Princesses’ quarters of Kensington and across the small courtyard to his, his mind lingered on Rhaegar’s letter. How could the Prince have thought anything could transpire between himself and the Princess…when within days of Rhaegar's death, she was already promised to someone else?

But still, Jorah thought of Rhaegar’s words, tucked inside the drawer of his nightstand, long after he had turned off the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of your lovely comments and support. I am so encouraged to keep going with this and I truly love the community that is blossoming around this ship now more so than ever.


	6. Just One Drink

“Come in Gilly…” Daenerys murmured sleepily when she heard a knock on her door. Her cheek was smashed against the pillow and the duvet pulled up over her to shield her from the sun coming in between the shutters. She could tell that the light was different, and it made her remember that she wasn’t in her old room.

“Oh, my apologies, Daenerys,” Jorah stood in the doorway, hesitant to step over the threshold when he realized the Princess was not quite awake. When Daenerys realized that it wasn’t Gilly’s voice answering her, she hastily sat up in bed, mortified as she looked across the room at Jorah.

“It’s nine? _Shit_ …” Daenerys cursed under her breath. This morning meeting thing definitely needed some getting used to. As she looked at him, completely put together and wide awake, she felt a twinge of embarrassment that she was so ill prepared. “Where’s Gilly?” 

“I just woke her up. You aren’t the only one who overslept…” Jorah took a step further into her new bedroom, today’s folder tucked under his arm. “She was up late talking on the phone with her new boyfriend. Sam something or other…”

Daenerys grinned. “How do you know Gilly has a boyfriend?”

“It’s my job to know everything that goes on here, Princess. One day you’ll thank me for it.” He said, “She’ll be in with your breakfast shortly.” The poor girl had been besides herself when she realized that she overslept, but he couldn’t blame her. They were all in a new environment and young love could be so all consuming. But he still made Gilly promise it wouldn’t happen again.

Daenerys pulled the covers up a little higher. Her pyjamas weren’t exactly revealing, but she still felt so sloppy in front of him. “What is on my schedule today?”

“You tell me…” Jorah handed her the folder. Inside there wasn’t a schedule – just some clippings from the morning newspapers for her perusal. “The next three days are open. And I can promise you, these opportunities won’t be frequent, so take advantage.”

Daenerys’ eyes lit up at the thought. No Starks. No having to see her father or Viserys. And she knew exactly what she wanted to do. “Is it alright if I have my friend Missy over to stay a few nights?”

“Not a problem – I’ll have the guest bedroom readied for her. Just let me know when we should be expecting her.” Jorah nodded, “And I just wanted to remind you, Princess…”

“ _Daenerys_ ”

“Daenerys,” a small smile played on Jorah’s lips at her correction, “That my weekend off is this weekend. As is Gilly’s. It will just be Grey and Chef.”

“Any plans?” Daenerys asked, curious. Since their schedules were so rigorous, the household staff took every second weekend off, alternating. She had only ever seen Captain Mormont working and wondered what his life was like outside of all this. Surely he must have one, but he was very private about it.

“I’ll be spending the weekend in Bear Island.”

“Bear Island?”

“Little place off of Glasgow’s coast. It’s where most of my family still is and I’ll be spending some time with my niece and my father, if he feels up to it.” Jorah said, with a little uneasiness in his voice. He hadn’t seen his father in a few years, since right after his divorce. Jeor Mormont had taken his daughter-in-law’s side over the whole ordeal But nevertheless, Jorah knew it was high time for a visit, especially after the loss of Rhaegar. Maybe they could clear things up and move on. Nothing reset his mind and heart quite like going home.

“Well then, I hope you have a nice weekend.” Daenerys smiled, and he returned the gesture before inclining his head just slightly in respect and leaving her alone to continue her morning. As she waited in bed for Gilly to bring breakfast, Daenerys picked up her cell and texted Missy.

“Palace slumber party?”

**~o0o~**

“Missandei…” Grey addressed Daenerys’ best friend in his quiet, strong voice when her car pulled up to the private entrance to Kensington later that evening. As she stepped out and he offered his hand to help her, her deep, flawless complexion flushed just a bit.

“I feel like it’s been forever!” Daenerys came out the back door of the residence and ran to greet her friend, wrapping her arms tightly around the tall, lithe French-Nigerian beauty and unknowingly interrupted the moment she and Grey were having.

“I know. I’ve missed you. Things have been so busy…” Missy looped her arm through Daenerys’, holding her close as they walked towards her new home. Grey kept his distance behind them, carrying Missandei’s overnight bag. He was the only one besides her parents that called her by her full name and the way it rolled off his tongue never failed to make her stomach flutter.

“I have a thousand things to tell you, but we have all weekend.” Daenerys led her inside and they giggled together over how gorgeous the entirety of her palace apartment was. There was enough room for Missy to have her own place on the property if Daenerys willed it, but she knew her friend was happy in her modest flat in Fulham.

“You must be Missy. Daenerys speaks so highly of you,” Jorah interrupted them as he walked into the living room. He shook Missandei’s hand and introduced himself.

“Dany has _not_ told me about you,” a smirk played on Missy’s lips as she glanced at her best friend, “But it is a pleasure to meet you.”

“I wanted to say goodbye before I took off. Don’t drive Grey mad this weekend, alright?” Jorah looked between the two women and then over at Grey, still holding Missandei’s bag. His face was stoic, as usual, but his eyes were fixed on their new guest. Jorah was keen at reading others and it was clear there were feelings between the two – and that they were mutual.

“Have a nice time with your family.” Daenerys nodded to Jorah, who thanked her and took his leave. She asked Grey if Chef could take the night off and they could have Indian food from their favorite place off of the high street and they retreated to her bedroom to catch up.

“Okay…so are you just surrounded by hot men? Is that what being a Princess is really like? Because I don’t remember this at Uni…” Missy plopped herself onto Daenerys’ bed, resting her head in her hand as she looked up at her blonde counterpart. Dany rolled her eyes and joined her.

“Jorah?”

“Yes. I mean…not my type…we both know who _is_ my type…but _bloody hell_. And he’s your…what did he say he was…personal secretary? What does that even mean?”

“ _Private secretary_. Basically the most intense assistant ever. Like what you do for Tyrion Lannister except he gets paid more than you do and he doesn’t know 17 languages,” Dany laughed.

“18. I just mastered Basque.” Missy smiled proudly.

“Useful, I’m sure,” Daenerys teased, “Will you use that a lot at work?”

“Do you think he’s hot?” Missy completely ignored Daenerys’ sad attempt at changing the subject. She rolled over onto her stomach and looked up at her with wide brown eyes.

“He’s certainly not bad looking,” Daenerys conceded. Her best friend could be dangerous sometimes. Always so inquisitive and intuitive.

Missy eyed her friend suspiciously. “Not bad looking? I know you aren’t blind. He’s fit. And totally the strong, quiet type. And that IS your type. Remember Drogo?”

How could Daenerys forget her first real relationship during her first year at Cambridge? Drogo could practically bench-press a car and towered over her by at least two feet. They fancied themselves in love and she certainly considered him her first love. They were together two years before he graduated and then things naturally started to fizzle as he moved away and they grew apart. It wasn’t a bad breakup, but it was still hard on her.

But Missy wasn’t wrong – Drogo and Jorah had some similarities. Quiet, but fit. Kind, but hard to read. “It doesn’t matter if on paper he is my type. He’s twenty years older than me and works for me.”

“Minor details.” Missy teased but sensing that Daenerys didn’t want to continue that type of girl talk, she backed off the subject. “Sorry, babe…I just want to see you happy. I can’t even comprehend what you are going through. 

Dany nodded. It was the push she needed to let everything spill out to Missy. Her sadness over Rhaegar. The whirlwind of changes with moving and how she felt sick to her stomach that Viserys was next in line to the throne. She talked about Sansa and their less than friendly tea and how her father was giving her no choice but to marry one of the Starks. It all fell out of her mouth – sometimes coherent, sometimes too fast and piecemeal for Missy to really understand, but she nodded and held her friends’ hand as tears threatened to spill from her eyes.

“We’ll figure this out together – okay? You just happen to be the Crown Princess of England…but no big deal, right?” Missy smiled as she sat up on the bed and wiped a lone tear streaking down Dany’s cheek as she looked her right in the eye.

Grey knocked on the door with their takeout and it brought them back to reality. They promised that they’d spend the rest of the night eating curry and watching chick flicks and forgetting about their daily lives, just happy to be two best friends together again.

**~o0o~**

Jorah stepped out of the town car at Heathrow at a quarter ‘til seven that night and made it quickly through the security check. It was times like these that he was particularly thankful for the perks of working in the Royal Family’s inner circle. Even if he only did get to have a semblance of a personal life once every two weeks, they took fantastic care of him. He didn’t have to pay for a place to live, or food, or clothes, or travel. If he was truly banking the nice sum her earned from the job, he could easily retire from it all in ten years and travel the world without a care. But he was paying an exorbitant amount in alimony to his ex-wife, who refused to work and was seeing someone else, while also refusing to get married just so she could collect from him.

Unfortunately, something the Royal Family didn’t offer was a good lawyer. Hers was much better and he paid dearly for that every month. The whole thing was such a mess.

By the time he reached the gate, the plane to Glasgow was already boarding. He’d be there just after nine and take the ferry to Bear Island. He settled into his seat in first class and pulled out a book to pass the short flight away.

“Captain Mormont?”

Startled, he looked up to see Lady Sansa Stark sliding into the seat next to him. 

“Lady Sansa, it’s nice to see you…” he said, still confused. She went on about how her seat was across the aisle, but no one would mind as she set her Celine bag down and crossed her long legs. For boarding a small 7:30 p.m. flight to Glasgow, she looked nothing short of glamorous.

“Where are you headed?” she asked, brushing her long, red hair over her shoulder and turning towards him as the plane started to fill up around them.

“Home for the weekend, you?” he found himself staring. Part of his job was to observe, and he was skilled at it. Her glances and overt attempts at catching his eye during the multiple funerary events in the past week hadn’t gone unnoticed.  He hadn’t expected to see her again, especially not so soon, and yet there she was sitting next to him. And he had to admit she was very beautiful.

“I’m heading to the Winter Gardens to represent Norfolk at the annual garden party there. And some other charity things…” she sighed, flippantly, “But then I’ll be back in London next week for Fashion Week. I assume the Princess will be there? I’d love to catch up with her.”

Jorah was overwhelmed by her. She was a force – sharp, quick-tongued, and clearly adept at leading the conversation where she wanted it, all with a coy little smile on her face.

“I haven’t spoken with her about it.” Jorah finally admitted, making a mental note to look into it. He was usually up-to-date on all of the important events, but London Fashion Week was never something Rhaegar would have thought twice about attending. But he was serving the Princess now, of course her interests would be different.

The cabin crew started to walk around to do their pre-flight checks and Sansa buckled herself in, her hand brushing his thigh as she snapped the seatbelt into the buckle.

“If the Princess and I are to be sisters-in-law, you will surely be seeing much more of me.” Sansa was clearly flirting, and Jorah tried his best to remain as neutral in expression as possible as the plane started to taxi.

“I think that’s all a bit far off, don’t you think?” After years of knowing King Aerys, even knowing how strict he could be, he was still surprised at this sudden push towards a union. It had to be years down the road at the very least. Still – he remembered how sad Daenerys was last night after the dinner. It made him sad to think about.

“Mmmmm…” Sansa hummed noncommittedly and was quiet for a moment as the plane took off and didn’t speak again until she looked out the window and saw the lights of London growing smaller beneath them. “Will you be with your family all weekend?”

“I hope to be.”

“Do you think you could squeeze in a drink with me one night? I don’t have a lot of friends in Glasgow…” Sansa looked at him with a glimmer in her eye that he only recognized as ‘trouble’.

“Oh, I’m sure you do Lady Stark. A girl like you could make friends anywhere.” Jorah did his best to skirt around the invitation.

“But I feel like we’d have a lot to talk about…” Sansa leaned closer to him and smiled, “Just one drink?”

“Just one drink.” Jorah conceded, and he saw a triumphant smirk flit over her lips for half a second. He was shocked at himself for agreeing.

It was certainly going to be an interesting weekend.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Sorry for the delay in posting this -- it was a bit hard to write, so any encouragement would be welcome. I enjoy reading your comments so much!
> 
> This is definitely more of a set-up chapter. And if you got to the end and are a little mad -- JUST REMEMBER - this is a Jorah/Dany story and will end happily for them. Ok?
> 
> Lots of love


	7. Khaleesi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi All!
> 
> Thanks for reading - this is an extra extra long chapter because I really appreciate all of you and your kind comments! 
> 
> This one may be a bit rough on you - it certainly was for me to write and you will see why. Just hold onto the reminder that again, this is Jorah/Dany endgame. I promise. There is a lot at play here.
> 
> As always, love to hear your thoughts. So happy for our corner of the internet to celebrate this beautiful and vastly underrated pairing.

“You are even starting to sound like them…” Jeor Mormont huffed between thick spoonfulls of porridge at breakfast. When Jorah arrived at Bear Island late the night before, his father had only given him a gruff ‘Hello’ and said they’d talk in the morning. It wasn’t the welcome Jorah was hoping for.

Jorah’s family home was just as he remembered it. Large and crafted entirely of sturdy, dark-stained oak and surrounded by acres of woods. He hadn’t been back in years, not since the divorce, but the crisp air and greenery brought back pleasant memories from when he was younger. The Mormonts still dominated the small island, starting as a clan hundreds of years ago – his father had their plaid hung proudly in the living room. He had many aunts and uncles, cousins, and a sister who was the mother to his niece, but they didn’t often get together. As was being demonstrated to him right then, the Mormonts weren’t very good at familial affection.

“I don’t…” Jorah protested quietly, but he knew his accent had changed. It was less brogue-ish, and slowly refined by years of being around the Royal Family. Another thing for his father to hold against him. “How’s retirement treating you?”

Jeor had just entered retirement about a year ago, leaving the British Army with the highest rank achievable – Field Marshall. He was legendary and ten times more decorated than Jorah. Something consistently held over him.

“Fine…living quite comfortably as you can see. You could be the same in twenty years too if you hadn’t left the army and became a butler.” Jeor’s words hurt Jorah, who stared into his black coffee, wondering why he thought coming out there would fix anything.

“ _Equerry_ – most prestigious position in the Royal Household,” Jorah corrected him, defensive. “And I worked for years with MI6, or do you choose not to remember that?”

“Oh, son, I remember…” Jeor set down his spoon and looked across the table at him. Although it was critical, he still soaked in ‘son’ coming from his father’s lips. “Worst decision you ever made – put such a strain on Lynesse. And that was only the beginning.”

Jorah sighed. He knew it was only a matter of time before his ex-wife was brought up. He decided to humor his father, knowing that he still kept in touch with her and sympathized with her for reasons beyond his understanding. “Have you spoken to her lately?”

“She’s doing great.” Jeor smirked. “Are you seeing anyone?”

Jorah paused. That was not a question he was expecting to be asked. He thought of Sansa, and how he had promised to get a drink with her – but that was nothing serious. He hadn’t been on a real date in ages. “No.”

“Shame…I’d like some grandchildren.” His father’s mouth turned up slightly at the corners, in almost a smirk. Jorah couldn’t tell if he was being a smart-ass or genuinely wishing for more family. Jorah knew he was a disappointment to his father – the son he always wanted but who didn’t follow in his footsteps. Who made mistakes. But still, Mormont blood was strong and loyal.

“Should I not have come?” Jorah asked the question that had been on his mind since the night before and his father stared at him for a long moment, not betraying any emotion.

“It’s good to have you back on Bear Island. Where you belong.” Jeor said as he took his bowl and got up from the table. It wasn’t as terrible of a response as Jorah expected. “You should get ready. Lyanna will be here soon and she’s been looking forward to seeing you.”

**~o0o~**

"Let’s go out tonight.” Missy suggested between bites of muesli. She and Daenerys were eating breakfast in the dining room, still in their lounge clothes. It was a striking juxtaposition between their informal appearances and the crystal chandelier hanging overhead.

“I don’t know…” Daenerys picked around her plate of runny eggs and soldiers. She and her best friend had spent many a night at university going to parties, much to Grey’s chagrin. But they were back in London now, with incredible nightlife to explore and they had yet to take advantage. Granted, it wasn’t easy for Daenerys to just pop out to a club.

“Please? So many of our friends are living in the city now and we could use a chance to catch up.” Missy pushed a little harder. Out of the two of them, Daenerys was much more outgoing and that wasn’t saying much. She marveled at how the job with the Prime Minister was bringing Missy out of her shell.

“Alright…” Dany smiled. She couldn’t say no to her friend, especially not when they had a whole weekend just for themselves. “Can you text them? Grey…”

It took Grey less than two seconds to appear in the dining room after Daenerys had called out for him. He had his hands behind his back and his legs slightly spread, his usual stance. But when he entered the room, it was Missandei he looked towards first and then the Princess. “Yes?”

“Can you arrange for Missy and I and a few friends to go out tonight?” She asked as kindly as possible. She wasn’t Viserys and didn’t just demand things of people. She knew every time she went anywhere it was a logistical feat for Grey.

“Of course, any preference?”

“Albert’s.” Daenerys decided. It was a member’s only club not too far from Kensington and had two major things going for it – her brother never went there and it had the best DJs in the city.

“I’ll make it happen.” Grey nodded, a small smile on his usually serious face, and left the room. Daenerys looked over at her friend who had talked her into all this and just shook her head and laughed.

**~o0o~  
**

“You never come and visit anymore…” Lyanna Mormont said matter-of-factly as she walked with Jorah through the woods behind his old home. He had promised they would go on a hike, something they both loved, when he came to stay.

“But I’m here now, aren’t I? With my favorite niece.” Jorah reminded her. He glanced over at her as she walked slightly ahead of him. Almost 13, small for her age at half his height, but as strong-willed as any Mormont.

“Your only niece…” Lyanna smirkd, her dark hair lifted by the wind whipping through the trees. Most of the Mormonts were blonde – Jorah a prime example with his sandy curls, but Lyanna was different. She had always been. She was named after Lyanna Stark – a coincidence that didn’t go over Jorah’s head, especially since Ned’s sister was now living across a courtyard from him.

The Mormonts had a long and complicated relationship with the Starks. His father was on the best of terms with them – often talking about how strong and brave both Robb and Jon were in their military training, which he had overseen.  Ned had served under Jeor in the army before being appointed Duke by Aerys. The ties weren’t as strong anymore but were still there. The strongest of which was Catelyn Stark’s proximity to Jorah's ex-wife Lynesse, as her best friend and closest confidante.

Needless to say, after the divorce, which Jorah personally believed Cat had quite a bit to do with, his relationship to the Starks became nearly non-existent.

It was funny how things had a way of circling back and starting over again – with Princess Daenerys being roped into marrying one of the Stark boys and Sansa Stark’s sudden interest in him. Clearly there was no getting away from it, even if he wanted to.

“Do you have a girlfriend yet?” Lyanna looked up at Jorah expectantly and it made him chuckle that he was being asked that question left and right that day.

“I don’t…otherwise I would have brought her with me to meet you.” Jorah said. Of all of his family, he valued and loved Lyanna the most. He called her his ‘little bear’. He and Lynesse had never had children and Lyanna was as close as he got to that type of relationship.

“That sucks – cuz mom says Aunt Lynesse is a piece of…”

“ _Lyanna_!” Jorah had to hold back a laugh. He could imagine her mother Maege saying that. She had a mouth on her and she was hardly ever wrong in her judgement of character - one of the few people on Jorah’s side after the whole ordeal.

“I’m just saying…” Lyanna shrugged as they started up a steep incline and she began to focus, placing her hiking boots carefully between the rocks as they went. Jorah stayed behind her, to catch her just in case, but he knew he wouldn’t need to. She could take care of herself.

“I hope this isn’t your way of leading into telling me that you have a boyfriend…” Jorah teased. He knew she went to a co-ed school on Bear Island, Maege not wanting her to go to an all-girls boarding school in Glasgow like many of the other Mormont kids.

Lyanna fake gagged. “’Course not – _boys suck_.”

Jorah laughed and then reached into his pocket after they summitted the hill when he felt his phone vibrate. It was a text from Sansa Stark.

_Still on for drinks tonight?_

  **~o0o~**

“Who is coming?” Dany asked Missy as they got ready to go out later that evening. Her bed and floor was strewn with clothes as she tried to decide what to wear.

“Doreah, Irri, Daario, and Rakharo.” Missy listed off casually as she checked the group text she had sent out. It was their core group of friends from Cambridge. Missy had met Irri in an Anthropology course and Dany had been introduced to Doreah and Rakharo through Drogo. Daario had started hanging with them all at a party one night and just never left. 

Daenerys got a little nervous when she heard Daario’s name. There had always been a bit of tension between the two of them, and after she and Drogo had broken up, they had hovered the line between friends and something more for a long while. “Sounds good. The red or the blue?”

She held up two different dresses for Missy to choose from. One was a red lace knee-length dress and the other was dark blue silk dupioni fit and flare.

“Dany, we aren’t having afternoon tea. We are going to a club. Where are all your clothes from Uni?” Missy sighed. Her dresses were gorgeous, but intended for garden parties, not dancing.

“Mostly thrown out when I moved back into the palace and had to start dressing like an adult…” Dany laughed. She moved to a small chest of drawers and rummaged through the bottom of it before pulling out a short black dress much more appropriate for the occasion. It had been one of her favorites to wear in that more carefree time of her life. She slipped it on and Missy nodded her approval. She was wearing a white silk jumpsuit that cut low in the back and perfectly accentuated her tall, lean frame and beautiful skin.

Grey pulled the car around for them and drove them to Albert’s and made sure they all entered through the private entrance. They were led to the second floor where they had a reserved sitting area ready for them near the upstairs dancefloor and could watch the busy bar down below. Champers was already chilling on ice for them, but Dany kindly asked their star-struck waitress for a bottle of Glenlivet as well.

“Being best friends with a Princess has perks…” Missy teased as she poured herself a glass of champagne as Grey stood a few meters away, his eyes darting around the club that was just coming to life.

“Finally, right?” Dany smiled. At Cambridge, no one treated her differently. Besides some odd looks and people being a bit nicer to her than usual, she wasn’t given special treatment by anyone. There were enough ladies and heiresses there that the novelty of it was lost and everyone was just trying to learn something and enjoy their time away from home.

“My God…D!” Doreah came out of nowhere and enveloped Daenerys in a hug.

“I’ve missed you…” Dany sighed as she rocked back and forth in their extended embrace. Doreah looked amazing, as she usually did. Her tight golden dress showed off almost all of her chest and she wasn’t apologetic about it in the least.

Irri and Rokharo were next to arrive, holding hands. Doreah had already known about their recent coupling, but Missy and Dany spent time teasing them for it, saying they had known it was bound to happen eventually. Rokharo couldn’t stop smiling and Irri blushed her way through the entire conversation.

All of them were on their second or third drinks, dancing, laughing and catching up, when Daario arrived. Daenerys saw Grey give him a wary look as he walked past him and smoothly found his place right next to her on the posh couch.

“Hey, beautiful…” Daario kissed her on the cheek before refilling her glass of whiskey and pouring one for himself. He shrugged off his leather jacket, so he was just in a white shirt and his dark jeans, too under-dressed for where they were.

“It’s good to see you.” Dany smiled as she watched him run his hand through his chin length messy brown hair. “You in town for a show?”

“Yeah, it was last night.” Daario said as he watched Irri and Rokharo dancing and Doreah and Missandei standing close and giggling about something. He was the lead guitarist of a rock band just starting to come into their own. They had just announced that they would be playing Glastonbury. It made Daenerys want to laugh that he had all of his parent’s money behind him and a degree from Cambridge and all he wanted to do was be in his band. But it was paying off now.

“Oh…you should have told me.”

“Well…with your brother and everything, it just didn’t feel right. I was surprised to get the text from Missy this morning…” Daario said honestly, “You doin’ okay?"

“Not terrible, considering…” Daenerys told him, her shoulders moving to the music of the latest song. Daario noticed and took her hand.

“Come on…dance with me.”

  **~o0o~**

Jorah walked into a little dive-y pub called ‘The Crow’ on the mainland after his ferry ride over from Bear Island. He had talked himself out of going all day, thinking up potential excuses – but there he was, dressed more casually than his everyday uniform in dark jeans and a light blue button-down that matched his eyes.

The pub was dark and fairly empty, even for a Saturday night at nine, which he was thankful for. Clearly Sansa favored anonymity in the same way he did, and he smiled when he caught sight of her sitting in a back-corner booth.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to come.” Sansa greeted him.

“Neither was I.” A chuckle escaped him and it made her smile, which he found he liked very much. He was thankful she wasn’t too dressed up. Her dark, tight jeans and simple black silk blouse complimented her red hair and her crimson lipstick nicely.

She ordered a Pimm’s and he ordered a beer and they were left alone. Jorah didn’t really know what to say or how he found himself in this situation – hundreds of miles from London sitting in a pub with Catelyn Stark’s daughter. _The irony._

“So…you really couldn’t find anything better to do tonight…” Jorah broke the silence. He found Sansa both intimidating and intriguing in the same way his ex was. Her mere presence made him question himself, which he knew was a dangerous thing to feel. And yet it drew him to her.

“This is what I wanted to do.” Sansa said it with such sincerity that it momentarily pulled Jorah out of his self-consciousness and back into the dimly lit room with her. “I’ve been wanting to do this since I first saw you.”

Jorah downed the remainder of his first beer – needing another desperately.

“Sansa, I think that maybe you have the wrong impression here…” Jorah started. _But did she?_ He had said yes to this. He had come of his own free will instead of staying on Bear Island and having dinner with his father.

As she looked up at him, he could see, just for a second, that she was wounded. And then it went away. He didn’t want to take his past out on her. She wasn’t her mother. She had no idea what had gone on with his divorce.

“It wasn’t my intention.” She said coolly, obviously changing her tactics on the fly. “I thought it would be nice to get to know you. You know Daenerys so well…”

“Of that, you are mistaken, my Lady. It’s been only a week since I’ve started working with her and she perplexes me.” Jorah admitted. His mind drifted to the Princess and hoped she was having fun with her friend.

“I see…she _is_ a bit hard to read. When I had tea with her, she wasn’t very forthcoming. But she is very beautiful…” Sansa said lightly as she finished her drink as well.  Jorah was quick to order her another as he thought of a response. Was this a test? What was he supposed to say?

“Many people think Princess Daenerys is very beautiful.” He said. He’d be lying if he claimed not to be one of them, but this seemed to satisfy Sansa.

“If you don’t know the Princess well, surely you must know Prince Viserys a bit better? My father thinks he and I would make a good match and I quite agree.”

Jorah almost spit out his sip of beer. “I do know him well, Sansa, and I have to disagree with your father. Viserys would make you very unhappy.”

“Oh?”

“Trust me on that one.” Jorah finished. He didn’t know what Sansa was trying to get at, but one potentially arranged marriage with Daenerys and Robb was enough for him to think about at this point.

“Then who do you think would make me happy?” The flirtation in Sansa’s voice couldn’t be missed as she looked at him over her fresh drink.

He knew he should slow down, that they both should. That he shouldn’t order yet another beer – but he was being pulled along on Sansa’s rollercoaster of a conversation and he didn’t know how to get out of it.

**~o0o~  
**

“You look very handsome tonight…” Missandei told Grey. It was nearing midnight and Rokharo and Irri were entwined on the couch making out, Doreah was surrounded by five entranced men downstairs at the bar, and Daenerys and Daario were dancing and talking and had been for hours. She had no one and it didn’t matter, because she was drunk and all she wanted to do was talk to Grey.

“Missandei…” Grey said softly, waving away the drink she was trying to hand him. His voice held a warning but also an apology. He had a job to do – to keep all of them safe – and yet she was distracting him. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her and her compliment warmed him.

Grey had started working for Princess Daenerys when she started University. He was only seven years older than all of them, but highly trained and serious. He wanted to make a name for himself and being security for the Princess of England was a surefire way to do that.

It wasn’t long after Daenerys started school that she became fast friends with Missandei. He had never believed in love at first sight until that day. She was the most gorgeous creature he had ever laid eyes on and his feelings for her only festered throughout the years.

Missy had kept her feelings well-hidden on her side, but now they were showing, plain as day. Grey had no idea she felt the same until now and was cursing his luck that there was nothing he could do to reciprocate in that moment. Maybe he could have a private conversation with the Princess and find out if this was acceptable to her. But he still had a job to do tonight.

“Do you want to dance?” Missy asked hopefully, getting caught up in the song that had just come on. She moved her hips back and forth and Grey used all of his willpower to keep his eyes straight ahead and scanning the room.

“Missandei, I’m working…” his voice was softer this time, breaking just a little bit. He dared to look at her, to look at how she was moving to the music.

Daenerys, wanting some fresh air and Daario, wanting a smoke, quietly made their way past their friends and downstairs to the street. Daenerys sighed as the cold air hit her skin, flushed from all of the dancing, and Daario leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette.

“What are you doing the rest of the night?” he asked her. There were a few more people trickling into the club and the doorman was trying not to stare at her, recognizing her.

“Going home and going to bed…” she laughed. She was wonderfully buzzed and had such a nice night being with her friends. She didn’t want it to end, but it eventually had to.

“A quick ride before you do?” Daario gestured to his motorbike, parked not far away. It made Daenerys laugh and shake her head.

“There is _no way_ you are getting me on that thing.”

“You didn’t come to my show…this is how you can make it up to me.” Daario smiled.

“I didn’t even know about your show!”

“Doesn’t matter…come on Princess…” he looked at her with big brown eyes and she made him promise it would be quick. He handed her his helmet, which she strapped down over her platinum hair, and straddled the bike. She situated herself behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. A moment later they were off into the London night.

**~o0o~**

It was half past one when Jorah and Sansa stumbled out of the pub, her arm through his. They were both laughing and had talked for hours about everything from their shared taste in music to annoying idiosyncrasies of nobles and royals that they knew. It had bordered on flirtatious the entire time, mostly coming from Sansa, but Jorah found he never once minded. It had been a long time since he had the undivided attention of a pretty girl and he wasn’t going to take that for granted.

She had said her hotel was in walking distance, but he hailed her a cab anyway, not wanting her to be out alone. It was only a short walk back to the ferry and since he knew the man who ran it, he’d still be able to get back at this time of night for the right price.

“This was fun. Let’s do it again soon?” Sansa asked as Jorah opened the door for her.

"Soon.” He promised, and she leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek, but her drunkenness resulted in poor aim and she caught the corner of his mouth instead.

She closed the cab door, smirking and he smiled to himself as he walked the opposite direction towards the water.

He was brought of his thoughts when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

Concerned that someone would need to get a hold of him this late, he quickly pulled it out. It was a text from Grey.

_S.O.S. Khaleesi gone_

“Shit…” Jorah whispered under his breath. Khaleesi was Grey’s codename for the Princess, roughly meaning ‘Queen’ in his native language from where he grew up in the outback of Australia.

He had left him alone for twenty-four hours and Grey had lost her. The thought sobered up Jorah quickly.

 _And his night had been going so well_.

 


	8. Close Call

 

Jorah quickly dialed Grey’s mobile.

“Where is she?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t have sent you that text.” Grey’s voice was the tersest Jorah had heard from him. There was noise and music in the background, and if he wasn’t mistaken, Missy’s voice.

“Do you have any idea where she may have gone…where are you, anyway?” Jorah asked, agitated, as he walked towards the docks.

“At Albert’s in Kensington. She may be with Daario, I haven’t seen him in a while.”

Jorah knew the spot well – Rhaegar had favored it, especially to spend time with Lyanna. “Who the bloody hell is Daario?”

“Her ex?” Grey said, unsure. Jorah heard Missy chime in and correct him, “ Her friend…from Uni.”

 _Great_ \- Jorah thought. As he neared where the ferry left from, he felt a sinking in his stomach. He knew he wouldn’t be going back to Bear Island tonight. “Do you trust this Daario guy?”

He didn’t hear Missy say anything this time and it took a while for Grey’s answer. “Not really.”

It caused Jorah to turn back around and retrace his steps up to the High Street. “I’m heading to the airport now. I’ll catch whatever plane I can get and I’ll keep you informed. Text me if you hear anything from her.”

Jorah hung up his mobile and shoved it in his pocket. He was thankful he had everything he needed with him to make a quick getaway. He’d have to make another trip back to Bear Island soon to pick up his duffel and as an apology to his father and family for cutting the trip short.

He could have stayed. It was well within his rights to. He was expected to be on call twenty-four hours a day, but never on his weekends off. But Grey was young and he remembered times he had fucked up in the service, in MI6, and in the early days with Rhaegar. Others had helped him. He and Captain Lannister had constantly had each other’s backs and he wasn’t about to leave Grey alone in this. She was their Princess.

 _Princess, can you please let me know if you are okay? Grey is looking for you -_ Jorah typed out the message on their private, encrypted chat and sent it. They hadn’t exchanged a word on it yet, but his with Rhaegar was their lifeline to one another. Jorah had to admit he was saddened when the palace IT team wiped the chat clean after Rhaegar’s death – it was a source of a thousand memories between them.

He hopped into the first cab that stopped for him and headed to the airport.

**~o0o~  
**

Daario and Daenerys pulled up to a rather nondescript pub that had some people milling about outside. He helped her off of the motorbike and out of the helmet, laughing a bit when he saw her long, blonde hair messy from the ride through the city. She was sure he had broken more than a few traffic rules en route.

“Where are we?” she asked, her legs a little shaky from the ride as he took her hand and led her into the quiet pub and down a staircase.

“The Troubadour…I know a friend playing here tonight…” he told her and she followed him and the sound of music thumping below them. The basement venue was packed and filled with cigarette smoke. Her heels stuck to the concrete from the sticky spilled drinks as they moved through the people. She could see how this was Daario’s scene, but it certainly wasn’t hers.

The band had been in a lull between songs, but when they started up again, it was deafening. The bass reverberated through the tiny venue and the bodies around them bobbed to it.

“Do you want a drink?” Daario asked her, practically yelling over the music. She shook her head that she was fine, but he left and returned with one for her anyway. She sipped on the cheap whiskey sour and her lips puckered as she tried to get into the music. She pulled out her mobile to text Missy, but it was dead.

“This was the first venue I played at with the band.” Daario leaned closer and told her. Did he think she would be impressed? Was he trying to show off? When she finished her drink quickly, mostly from having nothing better to do than sip it down, he got her another and she was starting to feel all the alcohol catching up with her.

“Daario, I think I should be getting back…” Daenerys told him. His glassy eyes were fixed to the stage, his head nodding with the beat and his long hair messy and sweaty.

“Not yet, love. I’ve been waiting to be alone with you all night.” Daenerys wondered why he hadn't just taken her somewhere quieter if that was what he wanted. His arm slipped around her waist and before she knew it, his lips were on hers.

Daenerys had thought about kissing him for a few years now. Back at Uni, there had been this chemistry between them - a flirtation. She had felt it earlier that night as she danced with him, but now, with his wet lips on hers and the music shaking her body, she was over it.

He wasn’t as great of a kisser as she thought he would be. In fact – he was terrible. All talk and no walk. When it came down to it, there weren’t the sparks flying in front of her eyes that she hoped there would be, like there was with Drogo. She pushed him away.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just…” Daenerys didn’t want to explain there, where she could barely hear herself think. There was no way he would be able to comprehend that she just wanted them to stay friends while the singer was wailing on about her failing love life. “…tired. And I think we should head out.”

At least she didn’t have to ask him a third time. He held her hand as they walked back up the stairs and onto the street.

Flashes blinded her as they tried to walk to his motorbike. Clearly someone from the pub had tipped off the paparazzi that she was there, as there were a handful of them standing outside and some tourists clamoring for a look as well.

She knew she never should have left with him.

Daario seemed unfazed, and even gave them a wave as he helped her onto the motorbike before getting on himself. A few seconds later, they took off, with Daenerys telling him to take her back to the palace.

**~o0o~  
**

Even though it was not even two hours, the flight back to London seemed to drag on for Jorah. He was lucky that he had been able to flash his credentials and get a seat on a plane taking off twenty minutes after he arrived at the airport, charging it to his spend account. But it was still going to be a long night.

It would be nearing three in the morning when he landed and then another thirty minutes to Kensington. He checked his mobile constantly. His message to Daenerys was still unread and Grey sent regular updates but hadn’t located her yet.

It was starting to worry him. Daenerys didn’t seem like the reckless type or one to just up and run off without telling anyone. He knew she and Grey had a close relationship and that she would never try and give him the slip.

Grey had texted him what he knew about Daario, with Missy’s help. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but look the guy up.

He was Daenerys’ age and apparently in some popular band called ‘The Second Sons’. Jorah had never heard of them and he felt he was pretty up-to-date when it came to music, as Sansa had concurred earlier that evening.

The multiple images online of Daario drinking iced coffee whilst wearing Ray Bans and strolling around London looking unwashed and unhappy only further confirmed what Jorah had already guessed – that this guy was an asshole. Not dangerous, but absolutely pretentious.

The thought of Daenerys out with this guy made Jorah oddly uncomfortable. He tried to reason to himself that it was simply because she was currently missing and that it had nothing to do that she was out alone with a good-looking guy.

But it _was_ because of that. He felt that he needed to keep her safe and it made him want to get off the plane even faster.

 _I’m just being protective. I just want her to be safe. Grey and I both do_ \- Jorah told himself as the plane started to descend. He could see the lights from parliament as they flew over. He told himself that he was just doing his job. He cared for Rhaegar in the same way, always wanting him safe and happy.

But this was different and no matter how many excuses he came up with, it nagged at him, pressing him to admit the truth. He pushed the thought away, but it kept coming back. When the plane landed, when he got into the car waiting for him, and as they drove.

He was attracted to Princess Daenerys Targaryen. As was half of England and some guy named Daario Naharis. In the same way that he realized earlier that night that he was attracted to Lady Sansa Stark.

He chuckled to himself - for years he had sworn off women since Lynesse, not wanting to go down that road again. And now, he had what could only be defined as a ‘crush’ on two women a little too young for him. And both way out of his league. His night seemed to be going from bad to worse.

He thought back to Sansa. They had a connection. They had a nice time talking to one another and found quite a bit in common. And she was beautiful. That meant more than his emotions running on high from finding out Daenerys was missing, surely? He and the Princess had barely had more than a few passing conversations. There was nothing there but him simply being worried and fascinated by her beauty. _That’s it._

But the contents of Rhaegar’s damned letter crept back into his mind. _Damn it._ He recognized the street they were turning down – he’d be at the palace in ten.

**~o0o~  
**

“Thanks…” Daenerys said breathlessly as Daario parked in the back service driveway of the Kensington residences and she hopped off.

“Maybe we can finish what we started?” he asked, taking off his helmet and moving towards her.

“Like I said, Daario…I’m really tired and I don’t think…”

“If only the paps had caught us kissing…” he smirked and Daenerys’ face fell. It had bothered her when she saw how nonchalant he was over their presence. Now she realized why.

“You brought me there and tipped them off?” she asked only to confirm her suspicions. He ran a hand through his hair and a few lights turned on in Lyanna’s apartments, momentarily distracting Daenerys.

“We make a cute couple.” He shrugged and she felt used. She thanked God no one had been able to photograph that more than forgettable kiss.

“I’m glad we were able to catch up tonight, but I’m not interested, Daario. Especially after knowing you tried to stage a photo-op.” She raised her voice, pissed.

“Oh, come on Dany, don’t be like that…we’ve been in the making for a while…” he laid on the charm. Any other girl would have just melted at his outstretched arms in his leather jacket – would have gone in for the hug. Instead, she crossed her arms and shook her head.

“You need to leave.”

“ _Dany_ …”

“You just wanted publicity for your fucking band…” Daenerys sighed, overcome with the realization. It was so obvious now how self-centered her was.

“Dany, are you okay?”

Both of them turned to look for whoever was behind the voice that had called out into the night. A few moments later, Lyanna Stark came into view, covered up in a robe and her hair tied up in a messy knot. She had clearly just come from bed.

“I’m fine, I’m sorry we woke you.” Daenerys apologized, stepping closer to her friend and away from Daario. She was thankful that someone else was there with her.

“Dany, love, _please_ …” Daario reached for her arm, missed and side-stepped. She watched him, terrified when she realized that he was tipsy, if not drunk, as was she. They had been driving nearly 90 kilometers an hour on his bike and they could have easily been in an accident. What had she been thinking?

He reached out again and didn't miss. Daenerys yelped when he grabbed her and Lyanna seized her other hand to help pull her in the opposite direction.

“Daario, what the hell? Let go of me!”

“Get your hands off of her!”

A black car pulled up in the driveway and Jorah stepped out. When he had heard from Grey and Missy that they had canvassed Kensington and hadn’t seen the Princess, he decided that he should start from home base to see if she had returned. He was glad he did and came up behind Daario, yanking him away from the Princess. Daario stumbled and fell back onto the asphalt.

Daenerys stepped back and Lyanna wrapped her arms around her as they both watched Jorah look down at Daario, who was struggling at getting to his feet.

“What the fuck, man?”

“Leave, or I’ll make this worse for you than it already is. That car will take you wherever you tell it. And don’t think about coming back for your bike.” Jorah said, his voice rough and angry. Daario didn’t fight him on it, mostly because they both knew he’d lose if he tried to go at him. He just stood up and headed to the car.

“ _Stupid bitch_!” Daario called back to Daenerys before he got in the car and slammed the door. Jorah clenched his fists but there was nothing he could do. If the car wasn't already pulling away, he would have started a real fight with the little punk. But he was just the equerry – if a fight was anyone’s job, it was Grey’s. He was getting too far ahead of himself. He looked to Daenerys, who seemed visibly shaken, and then to Lyanna, who looked worried and confused.

He messaged Grey to come home with Missandei. It was almost four in the morning and they all needed sleep. The explanations could come in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and for the awesome comments you leave that make my day! I also want to thank all of you - many of whom are amazing writers of this amazing ship, for keeping this little fandom alive and blooming and for all of the fantastic Jorah/Dany content you are all producing on the daily! You all inspire me and make this group great.
> 
> I am going to keep working on this story diligently, but for the sake of this ship that I want to keep growing and giving to, if anyone has a one-shot request that you would like to see written for Jorah/Dany, I would love to make those wishes a reality! Just let me know.


	9. Caught

_Daenerys felt the wind whip through her hair as the motorbike sped down King’s Road in Chelsea. She looked around at the city lights rushing by and held onto Daario tighter. But he felt different – taller, maybe – his shoulders broader. They weaved in and out of traffic, traveling at breakneck speed until they finally made an abrupt stop outside of Buckingham palace and she wondered why he took here there instead of home. He got off of the motorcycle and lifted her off with ease. His hands seemed stronger and surer than she remembered. He gently removed her helmet and then removed his._

_It wasn’t Daario staring back at her. It was Jorah._

_“Daenerys, are you alright?”_

_“Daenerys?”_

“Princess?”

Daenerys opened her eyes, her head throbbing slightly from the night before. She looked at the clock and realized how early it was still, and that she had barely gotten four hours of sleep.

She sat up in bed, shaking off her dream, when she realized that she could still hear Jorah’s voice – he was knocking on her door.

“Come in…” she said softly. The events of the previous night started to come back to her - Daario setting her up and trying to take advantage of her and Jorah stepping in just in time.

Jorah looked solemn as he walked into her bedroom. Underneath his left arm was a thick stack of newspapers. “I wanted to let you sleep longer, but we need to talk about last night.

He hadn’t gotten much sleep himself. After making sure the tipsy Princess was put to bed, he stayed up filling in Lyanna, having a firm talk with Grey, making sure Missandei was packed up and sent home, and then scrolling through social media to make sure there were no traces of her being out. He thought that it could be the end of it. Grey learned his lesson, he would speak to the Princess in the morning, and they could all forget the night ever happened.

That was until he saw the newspapers the next morning and Petyr Baelish called him and requested both Grey and the Princess at the palace by noon.

“Where’s Missy?” Daenerys asked, trying her best to directly avoid his eyes.

“I sent her home. No point in her being here to deal with this…” he continued, laying out each paper on the edge of her duvet.

**_The Second Sons Frontman Scores_ **

**_The Princess and the Rocker: Everything We Know_ **

**_Princess Daenerys Takes a Joy Ride_ **

Each paper had a blown up picture of either Daario and Daenerys walking to his motorbike outside of the Troubadour or speeding off on it. Daario had gotten all of the publicity he could ever want.

“Why are you even here? I thought you were with your family?” Daenerys rubbed some sleep out of her eye, annoyed at all of this and it came out more critical than she intended. She just wanted to pull the covers up over her head and sleep her hangover off.

“Clearly I can’t take any personal time without you finding yourself in trouble.” He said. His voice had an edge to it that was hard to miss, “Your father wants to see you and Grey this afternoon.”

“This is my fault, not his.”

“Why did you leave with Daario?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking.” 

“ _Obviously_. You were both drunk when I showed up last night. It’s a miracle you weren’t in an accident or _worse_. You aren’t just anyone, Daenerys. You are the Princess of England. Stories like this have repercussions…” Jorah continued. He was no stranger to giving talks like these, having had to dress Rhaegar down about his playboy behavior many times before he met Lyanna. But when Rhaegar was closer to her age, social media wasn’t as prevalent. Since he had woken up, #thesecondsons and #bikerprincess were trending and the photograph of her looking back over her shoulder with her arms around Daario’s waist on the motorbike had been retweeted almost a hundred thousand times.

“But I didn’t do anything with him…” Daenerys finally looked her private secretary in the eye and saw a myriad of emotions right beneath the surface. He seemed angry and worried and annoyed, as was she.

“It doesn’t matter what really happened - we both know that he set you up. But the British public feels that they are entitled to your life now, just as they felt entitled to Rhaegar’s. Viserys hasn’t given them anything to latch onto, so this one falls squarely on you.”

Daenerys sighed. She had been careless and ruined the night for so many people. Now Grey was in trouble, which would upset Missy, no doubt. And because she had been presumed missing, had made Jorah cut his weekend short. “I’m sorry, I truly am. I should have never left the club in the first place and I’m sorry that I made you fly back down here for me.”

“You didn't make me. But I’d make the same choice again. I’m glad you are okay, Princess.” Jorah said sincerely, softening his tone with her. He’d been hard enough on her and knew that the real scolding would come from the King. He gave her a small smile before lightly suggesting she get a bit more rest before getting ready to head to Buckingham.

“What about Daario’s bike?” Daenerys asked just as he turned to leave. Jorah pivoted on his heel to look at her, a smirk on his face.

“What about it? Grey and I have a new toy.” It was the one good thing he had gotten out of that encounter beyond making sure the Princess was safe.

He stepped out of her room and closed the door behind him, just as he felt his pocket vibrate.

 _Sansa Stark [8:31 a.m.]_ : Thinking about last night. Are you free tonight – same time, same place, maybe a different ending?

Jorah had been so preoccupied that it felt like his time with Sansa was weeks ago, not just hours. His heart jumped a little at seeing her name and the flirtation in her text, but he was also too focused on Daenerys to want to start a conversation.

 _Jorah [8:32 a.m.]_ : No. Back in London already.

 _Sansa Stark [8:33 a.m.]_ : I’ll be back in town on Wednesday with Robb. Maybe a double date?

Jorah knew she was only kidding, but he didn’t have the energy to play along.

 _Jorah [8:33 a.m.]_ : I’m sorry Sansa. I’ll have to let you know later.

 _Sansa Stark [8:34 a.m.]_ : Busy taking care of the Princesses’ little scandal?

Jorah put his phone back in his pocket and sighed. Of course she knew - everyone knew. Yet he found Sansa’s comment about it a bit crass. She and the Princess would never be the best of friends, but Sansa playing nice would make everything a hell of a lot easier. He caught himself - he was getting too defensive over Daenerys. But he still repeated the narrative in his head. She had just made a mistake – she was sorry, and nothing had happened between her and Daario. Embarrassingly, that was the aspect that calmed him the most.

**~o0o~**

“I’m extremely disappointed in you Daenerys.” Aerys started the conversation with his daughter when she walked into his office. He had just finished his talk with Grey and had an unpleasant call with Ned Stark earlier that morning, so he wasn’t in a good mood.

“I’m sorry, father – but what happened with Grey? Because it was my fault.” Daenerys asked, rubbing her palms together out of nervousness. She had worried about his fate all morning, especially when Grey had walked out of her father's office to send her in, his face drawn. Missy had texted her every few minutes wanting an update, worried that he would be fired and she might never get a chance to see him again.

“Oh, I _know_ it was your fault. That’s why he received a stern warning and only that,” the King continued on, speaking to her like a delinquent employee rather than his only daughter. “Do you understand what this looks like to me? Blowing off your security detail and making Captain Mormont derail his weekend all so you could get pissed and God knows what else with some attention-seeking, barely relevant rockstar?”

Daenerys crossed her arms, her eyes stinging from holding back tears, “What does it look like? Can you be more clear?” She prompted him, but she saw the fire behind his eyes and already knew the answer.

“Like you are some common tart, not the Princess of England. Ned Stark called me this morning, furious. How is Robb supposed to date you and eventually marry you when you are riding around on motorbikes with other men?” He raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to argue back with him and she had to swallow down the hurt coursing through her body. He would never understand if she tried to explain that she was set up, or that she had no interest in Daario. Her father had a bigger plan and she had unknowingly attempted to interfere with it.

“I don’t want to marry Robb.” Daenerys said firmly, raising her voice just a bit. If she could fight him on any bit of this, it would be that.

“But you _will_. You are going to go out on a date with him this week and I am going to make sure you are photographed doing so.” Aerys had already spoken to Baelish and the PR team for the Royal family on ways to spin this in their favor. He needed both of his children to look as good as possible. Since Rhaegar’s death, there had been murmurs, very quiet ones, but murmurs nonetheless that there were prominent members of parliament looking into abolishing the idea of a royal family altogether and ushering in a new age for Britain. The notion was brought up every so often without much substance behind it, but the public was currently on edge after Rhaegar’s death. They had loved him and wanted him to be King more than they had ever loved or would ever love Aerys. And Viserys didn’t have a favorable public reputation either. He _needed_ Daenerys to shine.

Daenerys nodded, resigned for now. “If that’s all?”

“Robb will be contacting you, and I’ll know if you ignore him.” Aerys sighed and picked up some of the papers on his desk, slipping his glasses on, which signaled the end of the conversation.

**~o0o~  
**

Jorah sat uncomfortably in one of the high-backed chairs in Petyr Baelish’s office. The King’s private secretary had asked to speak with him while the King was busy with Grey and the Princess. He and Petyr spoke everyday, and had for years. He was the main point of contact for him and Melisandre and all major events for the Royal family were planned and disseminated through him.

Britain thought King Aerys a powerful man, but in reality, Petyr held most of the power. He knew everything about the Royal family inside and out, so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Jorah when the casual beginning of their conversation quickly turned personal.

“It is such a shame that you weren’t at Kensington when Daenerys went missing. Grey is capable, but I’m sure you could have found her before all of this nonsense…” Petyr drawled, stirring his tea with a small silver spoon and offering a cup to Jorah. Jorah declined and crossed his legs, focusing on the view from Petyr’s window instead of looking right at him. Something about his slightly beady eyes had always bothered Jorah.

“The boy set her up.” Jorah noted gruffly.

“Of course he did. And he was smart to do so. His band now has over a million followers on social media. _Overnight_. All because of one picture,” Petyr continued. “Aerys refuses to believe that and I’m sure is ranting on to her right now about how she’s a little whore…”

Jorah flinched at the word. He hated that Daenerys was being painted as some harlot for one image of her holding onto some guy on a motorbike. When there were pictures of Rhaegar drunk in a club dancing with a random girl, he certainly wasn’t taken very seriously, but he also wasn’t vilified for it.

“She made a mistake. Her phone died and I came back as soon as I was able. Am I not allowed to have a weekend with my family?” Jorah asked Petyr, who he was pretty sure never took a day off. The man never shut down and didn’t have any family to speak of. His life was the Targaryen legacy.

“But were you?” Petyr asked nonchalantly, turning away from Jorah and clicking through Twitter on his computer, looking at the new tweets about the Princess.

“Sorry?”

“Were you having a weekend with your family? Because I thought you spent most of your Saturday night with Sansa Stark?” Petyr turned back to Jorah with a little grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“How did you…”

“After all these years, Mormont, and you still underestimate me?” Petyr leaned forward, his hand absently stroking the small patch of hair on his chin. “But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

“If?” Jorah asked. There was always an ‘if’ with Petyr.

“I’m thinking about a favor I need from you and I’ll let you know when I need it. But for now, yours and Sansa’s little tryst is safe with me. Unless you are careless like Daenerys and end up in the _Daily Mirror_ ”. Petyr’s shit-eating grin was hard to take and Jorah knew he had been caught out. “Look, Mormont. She’s beautiful, I understand that. But you need to be a little bit more careful with her – if I knew you had drinks with her this weekend, then you aren’t being as discreet as you thought you were.”

“I appreciate your concern.” Jorah said and stood up. He heard Daenerys’ lilting voice from outside Petyr’s door and assumed she was done meeting with her father. There was nothing more for him to say. He had no idea how Petyr knew about him and Sansa, but now it was being held over his head. The man had always had a bit of an obsession with the Starks, Catelyn in particular, so it wasn’t far-fetched. But it still felt invasive.

“Oh, and Jorah? The Princess will be going on a date with Robb Stark this week – don’t get distracted and lose her again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, my endless thanks for reading and commenting and letting me know that you want to see more. It makes me so happy and I can't say it enough but I love our little rarepair shipdom.
> 
> And thanks for sticking with me through this slow, slow burn. Things are going to start to pick up in the *naughty* department, so hang in there!


	10. First Dates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Thanks for reading - if you are hating on Robb and/or Sansa in this fic...boy do I have some bad news for you for this chapter! But stick with it...we will all be happy Jornaerys lovers in the end. PROMISE,

Jorah rubbed his temples and took a sip of his now lukewarm tea before glancing at the clock. It was only ten in the morning and yet he felt as if he had already worked an entire day.

No one had been in a pleasant mood after heading back from Buckingham the day before. Grey didn’t say anything for the rest of the night and Daenerys alternated between being solemn and ranting about how unfair her father was being. Jorah tried his best to be diplomatic and not outright side with her, but he inwardly agreed.

Her emotions only escalated when he caught her going down a rabbit hole on social media – clicking through comments on the pictures of her and Daario, many of which weren’t very nice. He didn’t want to come off too fatherly, so he refrained from acting instinctively and telling her to turn off her phone. Instead, he tried his best to walk the line between friend and advisor, as he did with Rhaegar. Despite his gentle urgings to call Missandei or invite Lyanna over, she sat catatonic on the plushy couch in the sitting room and ignored him, face lit up from the glow of her phone screen.

Before his daily meeting with her that morning, Gilly had let him know she looked as if she had been crying. When he saw her for himself, he thought the same. He knew his news wouldn’t make her feel any better. He told her that Robb Stark had called Kensington before she had woken up hoping to arrange a date for later that evening. Daenerys had just nodded rather despondently.

And now Jorah sat in front of his computer in his office, tasked with planning her date night. He felt wracked with guilt that he was setting up something that would make the Princess miserable, but planning these things was his job. He had planned every date night for Rhaegar and Lyanna for as long as they had been seeing one another. Jorah had a knack for it – even though his marriage hadn’t worked out, he still considered himself somewhat of a romantic and had never struck out with an idea.

With Lyanna and Rhaegar, Jorah had always wanted things to be perfect for them. Rhaegar had been like a brother to him in so many ways and it made him happy to know that he could help Rhaegar impress Lyanna and discover new shared interests together.

A wave of selfishness passed over Jorah. He didn’t want to help Robb succeed in seducing Daenerys. _Not one bit_. The sad look on her face as she had sat in her bed in front of him that morning hurt him. He couldn’t imagine being her age and being forced into a relationship she had no interest in, all between being maligned by the paparazzi and mourning her brother.

On the other hand, Sansa had been angling to see him and if Daenerys was out, he could slip out as well. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious about her and what she had in mind for him. But that thought made him feel selfish. With another heavy sigh, he continued his search for the perfect place for a dinner date, trying not to let his personal opinions prevent him from doing his job.

  **~o0o~  
**

“Missy, I’ll need those translations on my desk by two…” Prime Minister Lannister said as he walked by her in the bustling offices of 10 Downing. For a man with such a small stature, he certainly commanded everyone’s attention when he walked by.

She nodded and shoved a large scoop of hummus via carrot into her mouth as she knew she wouldn’t get much of a lunch break if she was to finish her multiple translations of his latest speech for parliament on time. As she pulled up the word doc on her laptop and started editing what she had been working on, she noticed her phone screen light up out of the corner of her eye.

 **Grey [12:05 p.m.]:** Sorry I didn’t get back to you yesterday. Everything’s fine. Just a warning.

Missy breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in her rather uncomfortable desk chair. Daenerys hadn't responded to her messages and she had been worried about Grey getting in trouble after the events of the weekend.

The only good thing that had come out of that night was that she and Grey had exchanged phone numbers. _And a kiss_. She still hadn’t told her best friend yet since she felt partly responsible for the whole ordeal. Missy had tried her hardest to get Grey’s attention that night and it had worked – well enough to make them both forget about Daenerys and Daario. And now her best friend was on the front page of every paper.

 **Missy [12:07 p.m.]:** Good. I still feel awful. I know I didn’t help…

 **Grey [12:07 p.m.]:** I don’t regret anything that had to do with you that night.

Missy blushed and tried to think of a reply for a few minutes before a second text from him came through.

 **Grey [12:10 p.m.]:** I want to talk to the Princess and ask if it’s okay that I see you. Outside of me watching you hang out with her.

 **Missy [12:10 p.m.]:** I’d like that.

“Missy – is the Tswana translation that entertaining?”

She looked up from her phone to see Tyrion leaning against the edge of her cubicle. The constant charming smirk on his face made him nearly impossible to read. She couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or amused.

“Not particularly, sir.”

“If you are talking to the Princess, tell her from me that I think this Daario bloke is far too beneath her. She can do better.” He winked and moved on. “By two, Missy!”

**~o0o~  
**

“Love, you need to not focus so much on this stupid media blitz. It will blow over, _I promise_. It has just been a few slow news days and honestly, people adore you and just want to know more about your life…” Lyanna explained softly as she sat in front of Daenerys at the vanity in her room, carefully applying her eyeshadow to help her get ready for her date with Robb.

“But he’s gone along with all of it!” Daenerys’ eyes flashed when she thought about how Twitter was now buzzing after Daario had been interviewed insinuating he slept with her that night.

“Because he’s a fame hungry prick. His band sucks – I gave them a listen this morning. Not impressed.” Lyanna moved to Dany’s other eye, biting her lip in concentration.

Daenerys laughed a little, “They do kinda suck, don’t they?”

“He’ll get his fifteen minutes and then no one will remember him. It is sad a friend had to use you like that, but when you are a Targaryen, it is to be expected. The only people I saw who genuinely had Rhaegar’s back were Captain Mormont and Captain Lannister. Everyone else could be very fickle.” Lyanna mused, getting lost in a memory and Daenerys didn’t try and pull her out of it. Instead she stood up and walked over to her closet to try and find something to wear. She and Robb were going to dinner and then to the opera to see Orpheus and Eurydice. It certainly wouldn’t have been her first choice, but she supposed she at least wouldn’t have to try and come up with conversation topics during the performance.

“I know he’s your nephew, Lyanna, but I really don’t want to do this…” the Princess admitted as she rifled through dresses, trying to pick out one that was modest and wouldn’t send any unwanted signals.

“You’ve always been stubborn. You take after both of your brothers in that way – if someone tells you to do something, then of course you want nothing to do with it,” Lyanna smiled knowingly, “But even if he can be a bit of a prat, Robb is a sweet guy. His heart is in the right place, and I can promise you that he has no intention of using you like Daario did. I know my brother and your father have this ridiculous scheme to get the two of you together but it was spurred on by Robb’s initial attraction to you. I know your father doesn’t always, but Ned puts his children first. He wouldn’t have brought up a proposition that Robb wasn’t interested in.”

“I’m not sure if that makes me feel any better or worse.” Daenerys finally settled on a deep orchid-colored Catherine Walker dress that she liked to wear because it brought out the violet specks in her blue eyes.

“Dany, one of these days a guy is going to come along and sweep you off your feet. And maybe that day is today. You can’t possibly tell me no one has caught your eye since that university boyfriend of yours?”

“Well…there was Daario, but look how that turned out,” she looked over at her friend as she tried to go back through her memory of other guys she had once had crushes on. She couldn’t think of any. Her mind then wandered to men she thought handsome, a little perturbed that she really couldn’t come up with anyone except for David Beckham, Colin Firth, and…

“There has to be someone if it isn’t my nephew. I hate saying it but it is true that he’s probably the most eligible bachelor in England right now. And you haven’t even given him a second thought.” Lyanna could see Daenery’s brain turning and then she saw the slightest hint of a blush cross over her cheeks before she darted back into her walk-in closet to look for a suitable pair of heels.

Daenerys didn’t want to look at Lyanna, afraid her face was going to give herself away. She was shocked at herself that an image of Captain Mormont had flashed through her head when she was trying to drum up the handsomest men she could think of. “I swear there really isn’t anyone.”

Lyanna highly doubted that.

**~o0o~  
**

Jorah stepped out of a cab at the curbside of the Bloomsbury Hotel in Soho. It had taken all of his courage to call for the cab in the first place after Daenerys had left with Robb for the evening. Gilly had holed up in her room to talk on the phone to her boyfriend Sam and Grey was engrossed in the Chelsea game. No one minded that he left, but he still felt as if he shouldn’t have.

He walked through the busy, glitzy hotel lobby and to The Coral Room bar that Sansa had texted for them to meet at. Everyone around him was twenty years younger than him and looked as if they had just stepped off the pages of a Zara spread in Vogue. He felt out of place, even though he had dressed up in black slacks and a crisp white button down under his black blazer. He ran his hand through his sandy blonde hair as he entered the bar, wondering what the hell he was doing.

And then he saw her sitting at a table near the edge of the bar alone and on her mobile. She didn’t have a drink in front of her yet, so he stopped by the bar first and ordered both of them an old-fashioned with a heavy pour. The bar was loud and everyone seemed too absorbed in his or her own conversations to care about anyone else, for which he was thankful. After paying for the drinks, he walked across the room, decked out with red walls, leather chairs, and gold accents everywhere and slipped into the seat across from Sansa.

“Sorry I’m late,” he apologized. Robb had been late in collecting Daenerys, which had set him back, “You look stunning.”

She truly did. She had her long red hair pulled up in a high ponytail that accentuated her cheekbones and the black dress she was wearing had an enticing slit up the side that showed off her legs she currently had crossed. His compliment made her smirk as she took a sip of her drink.

“You have a very ‘James Bond’ thing going on tonight. I like it.” Sansa shot back at him.

“Well this is quite a step up from that pub in Glasgow, so I had to put in a bit of effort.”

Sansa took a moment to look him over, her blue eyes taking their time as they roamed over his face and shoulders and chest, “For our first official date, it couldn’t just be _anywhere_.”

Jorah almost spat out his whiskey, “Date?”

“Princess Daenerys and my brother are on a date right now. He came back to London with me for that very reason, so why can’t this be a date?” Sansa asked.

Jorah had no good rebuttal there. Their night together in Glasgow had very much felt like a date and tonight even more so, “Sansa, we can’t…" 

“ _Why not_? We have chemistry and we have lots in common…”

“What about Viserys?”

“I haven’t had any further interest in pursuing Viserys after we talked on Saturday.”

“Your father would never approve…” Jorah sighed. _Not to mention her mother – that was an entirely other issue_.

“So?” Her eyes grew cold and he could see she was getting defensive. “I am more than capable of making my own decisions. It’s not as if we are stepping out on a balcony together for some photo-op to declare our undying love for one another. We can keep this between us and see how it goes. Unless I’ve misread all of this.”

Jorah looked at her and admired her for expressing what she wanted. _But did he want this?_ Did he want to go down this path, entangling himself with the Starks, and being somewhat indebted to Petyr Baelish if he wanted to keep it quiet?

There were so many things to consider. His job, for one. Could he reasonably date the daughter of Ned Stark without any repercussions? His place was and always had been true loyalty to the Targaryen dynasty. If Sansa came into the mix, surely his feelings might drive some of his decisions.

And then there was the Princess. After the grip of jealousy he felt around his heart when he watched Robb Stark put his arm around Daenerys and walk her to the car waiting for them, he could no longer deny he had complicated feelings for her that he hadn’t yet worked out. But was it just awe? Was he just missing Rhaegar and she was the only tie he had left to him? He couldn’t tell.

But even with his feelings for Daenerys, Sansa Stark was sitting right in front of him, flirting with him and coyly rubbing her ankle against his leg under the table. There was only so much he could take of that.

“You haven’t misread any of this, Sansa.”

**~o0o~**

“A bottle of Dom, please?” Robb asked the waiter at Le Gavroche. Daenerys quickly jumped in.

“Actually, just a whiskey, neat for me.” She asked as sweetly as she could and Robb changed his order to the same, “Sorry, champagne gives me odd headaches.”

“It’s fine,” Robb nodded. From the car ride to entering arguably the most expensive restaurant in London, things just hadn’t gone smoothly. Robb was clearly nervous and had kept unintentionally interrupting her on the ride there and she had tripped when she got out of the car and nearly twisted her ankle. They just weren’t in sync with one another.

“What do you think you are going to order?” Daenerys made small talk as she looked over the menu and held it up in front of her to block out those staring. In such a posh place like this, she was easily recognizable and people’s sly glances her way weren’t as subtle as they thought they were.

“Steak…” Robb said and Daenerys relaxed a little bit. He could have easily gone for something a thousand times more pretentious on this menu. In fact, she had almost been certain he would have.

“Me too.” _Well, that was one thing in common, even if it was just meat_. She had to take her little wins that night as she was trying to take Lyanna’s words to heart and give him a solid chance.

“I know I’ve told you a dozen times already but you really look breathtaking.” He told her and she put down her menu to look at him. He looked extremely fit in his navy suit with his auburn curls placed just right as if he had spent hours arranging them. _Maybe he had_. If this was truly her fate and she was going to end up with him for the rest of her life, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

“Thank you, you are very kind, Robb.” Daenerys blushed sincerely. Compliments on anything else she took without much fanfare, but when it came to her appearance, as Tyrion Lannister had aptly pointed out after her brother’s funeral, she had no idea just how pretty she was.

“I know this is kinda strange and I know our fathers are really trying to set us up so that our families are tied closer together, but I want you to know that’s not what this is about for me.” Robb told her, his eyes searched hers for the same sentiment and came up short.

“It is a bit weird if I’m being honest…”

“Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself, but seeing how strong and composed you were after your brother’s death, I really admired that. You are brave, Daenerys, and beautiful, and I just want to get to know you better.”

She nodded. She had made assumptions about him and his family and put up walls. Maybe Ned Stark and her father were playing a game, but she and Robb were two adults who could make their own decisions and why shouldn’t she give this a fair go? Her brother had found his true love with a Stark, so why couldn’t she?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the first part of their respective dates. More will be coming soon!


	11. One more drink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! I am SO sorry for the delay here - I haven't forgotten about this story! It is just that I was on a trip - to London! So needless to say I did a lot of research and had a lot of great ideas. Happy to be back and hear from you all and I hope you enjoy.

Jorah took a glance at his watch and tried to blink away the blurriness in his eyes – but it was the whiskey causing it, not the late hour. He was far from sober now - four drinks in to Sansa’s two, and it was more than Jorah had drunk on a weeknight in some time. He usually stopped himself at a few pints when going out with the boys, but he was nervous. And his nerves kept causing his glass to find his lips to give him something to do as Sansa looked at him from across the table. Her gaze was unrelenting, and he felt as if she could see right through him.

He should have been back hours ago, but every time he started to leave, her hand was on his arm and she sweetly asked him for a little more time.

And that time flew by. He enjoyed Sansa’s company and there was never a lack of conversation. But now, as Sansa slipped something across the small cocktail table towards him, he felt the full force of his nerves turning his whiskey-filled stomach when he realized it was her hotel room key.

“I’m staying here for a few nights so I can be close to all the best fashion week shows. We can have a few more drinks in my room?” Sansa stated it so calmly, as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. But the look in her eyes told him this had nothing to do with continuing their drinking.

Jorah looked down into his glass so she wouldn’t see the panic flash over his face.

“What about Robb?”

“What about him?” Sansa shrugged. He was staying at the same hotel and Jorah could only imagine running into him taking the Princess back to his room. But surely, Daenerys knew better than that? She wouldn’t do something like that, would she? _He should know better_ , he inwardly reprimanded himself.

“I can’t,” he pushed the little black key card back towards her, “I really should be getting back…”

“One more drink won’t hurt.”

He wanted to curse the coy smile on her face and his lack of self-control as he nodded, and she took his hand. The ride up the lift was the first real silence between them, and it continued as she opened the door to her suite and they both slipped inside.

“I’ll be just a minute, pour me another,” Jorah said as Sansa went for the decanter of whiskey sitting at the table by the window with a view of the picturesque houses in Bloomsbury square. He stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him, quickly splashing some water on his face and rolling up his shirtsleeves. He barely recognized the man staring back at him in the mirror.

He never knew himself to act like this – he was always responsible. Always level-headed. A few weeks ago, he would have never shirked off his duty as one of the head members of the royal family’s team in order to have drinks with a pretty girl. He should be back at Kensington, planning for the Princesses’ fully book schedule. Or sleeping. Not acting like some twenty-year-old.

But then again, his entire life had turned upside down the day that Rhaegar died. Maybe he wasn’t the same Jorah anymore.

As Sansa waited with two more whiskeys poured for them, she typed out one more text before turning her mobile off.

 _He’s in my room_.

**~o0o~**

“That was romantic, wasn’t it?” Robb asked as he buckled himself in to the back seat of the town car and his driver quickly pulled onto the busy late-night London streets.

“Yes, but a little morbid…” Daenerys offered about the opera. Robb reached for her hand and she let him take it. The story of Orpheus and Eurydice itself wasn’t really the problem. It was that they had spent nearly three hours not talking to one another and she had found herself rather bored. The whole point of a first date was to get to know one another. So far she had only ascertained that Robb liked steak and tilted his head to the right when he was thinking hard about something, which seemed to be the entirety of the opera.

“The love Orpheus has for his wife – that is what I aspire to. I’d bend heaven and earth to be by the woman I love’s side,” Robb commented. She noticed it was genuine – he wasn’t trying to make some kind of thinly veiled overture. For a moment, it endeared him to her. He was a nice guy – and she wanted him to have that kind of powerful love. She wanted that for herself too. But would it be that way for them? Would a love be able to grow between them?

Daenerys knew that her parents weren’t in love from the start. It was that way with so many royal couplings. But a strong bond grew between them, fortified by her and her brothers. Maybe she was in for the same fate.

Her mother had told her stories growing up about Princesses and their knights in shining armor. And how the fell in love and lived happily ever after. She told her these stories before Daenerys understood what a Princess really was, and that she was one. They were only fantasies and stories, but the notion of true, pure love had stuck with her for all of those years – one of the dearest memories she held on to of her mother.

They fell into silence as they drove back to Kensington Palace, with Robb’s warm hand resting gently on top of hers. When they arrived, he got out of the car and opened her door for her, offering her his hand. It struck Daenerys that he looked every inch the part of a modern day ‘knight in shining armor’ with his perfectly tailored suit and impeccable manners.

“I had a wonderful time with you tonight, Princess. Will you do me the honor of letting me take you out again?”

Robb held her close as he asked her. He was doing everything right – being a gentleman, not moving too fast. Daenerys didn’t know if she even had a choice but to say yes.

“That would be nice, Robb.” She kept her voice measured, not wanting to sound as excited as he was, because she wasn’t. But she needed to give him another try. She didn’t care to find out how her father would react if she didn’t.

He kissed her, softly, chastely. His soft lips barely whispered against hers and then he enveloped her in a hug before saying a final ‘goodnight’.

**~o0o~**

“Is she back yet? She hasn’t texted me…” Missy’s voice sounded concerned on the phone as Grey paced back and forth in the foyer. It was past one in the morning and he expected she would be back long ago. Robb’s security detail had promised he would be in touch but hadn’t and Grey considered going out to make sure everything was okay.

“No, and neither is Jorah,” Grey sighed. He had been talking with Missy for over an hour and the conversation had started light, but quickly fell back into what they had texted about earlier. He had planned on speaking to the Princess about himself and her best friend after her date, but it was too late to broach that subject now.

So far, the only thing their conversation had served to do was make Grey fall even more for her.

“Why aren’t either of you with her?” Missy asked.

“Robb took his own security detail and that left me an evening to talk to you.” Grey explained, citing the one thing he was thankful for. At that moment, he saw headlights shine through the front windows – someone was back.

Grey tried to keep an inconspicuous profile while keeping an eye on the black town car that had pulled up out front. He saw Robb get out and walk around the car to open the door for Daenerys. “The Princess just got home. I’ll text you tomorrow…”

“’Night, Grey.”

Grey hung up his cell and watched as the pair stood close to one another, lit up by the headlights of the running car. Robb slid an arm around the Princesses’ waist and leaned in to kiss her. It didn’t last long, but they parted with smiles and exchanged a few more words before he saw Daenerys heading to the door.

He opened it for her, “Welcome back, Princess. Did you have a nice time?”

Daenerys’ face was slightly flushed as she looked up at him, clearly not expecting him to be standing right there. “It was lovely, thank you. Is Captain Mormont about?”

Grey froze and after a moment, cleared his throat and answered her, “He went to bed a few hours ago. Gilly is still up if you need something or I am happy to help.” He didn’t know exactly why he lied about it, but Jorah had covered for him when he failed at his security duty by losing her with Daario. He felt it was only right to repay the favor somehow.

“No, I’m fine, thank you.” She assured him. Throughout the entire evening with Robb she had found herself looking forward to having a cup of tea and some biscuits with her royal secretary. He was usually always up late and she knew she could always count on him to share a late-night snack with.

“Goodnight.” Grey smiled and left her for his own room, intent on talking to her in the morning about Missy. Daenerys sighed as she walked the opposite way to her bedroom, only bothering to take off her shoes, and flopped onto her bed.

Robb had been nothing but a gentleman all night. He had led her swiftly and surely through the gathered paparazzi outside of the Royal Albert Hall before the show and had said all the right things. And he hadn’t pushed her for anything more than a simple kiss.

Daenerys, for all of the male attention she got, hadn’t kissed anyone seriously since Drogo, so she didn’t have much to go on by way of comparison. It had been so long since Drogo that those memories had faded considerably. Robb’s kiss was nice. It gave her a few little butterflies that were still flitting around in her stomach, but it lacked the fire and need of her kisses with Drogo. Maybe everyone was just different? Maybe she had grown up and they didn’t need to act like two hormone-fueled teenagers? But still – it seemed so anti-climactic.

She hugged one of her pillows close to her as she tried to drift off into sleep, but it just wouldn’t take her. Her mind was filled with so many things – her obligations for the next day, the certainty that a picture of her and Robb would be plastered on the front of the _Daily Mail_ the next morning, and feeling guilty that while she _should_ be thinking about her perfectly fine date with Britain’s most eligible bachelor, she was thinking about a man who would never have any interest in her.

**~o0o~**

“I love you too, Sam,” Gilly blushed as she lazily walked around her bedroom in the Kensington apartments. It was half-past two and way later than she usually stayed up, but anytime she could talk to her boyfriend, she jumped at the opportunity.

“Sam…I really need to get to bed,” she giggled and shook her head. He had spent the better part of the last hour excitedly telling her all about the research he was doing for his second PhD. He was a professor at Oxford, the youngest they had had in a century, and Gilly sometimes wondered how he could be interested in a fairly simple girl like herself. She hadn’t gone to uni and barely made it through lower secondary school before dropping out. She had been able to work in the palace because of her attention to detail, curiosity, kindness, and hard-work, but sometimes she found it frustrating that she barely understood all of the concepts Sam talked about. Regardless, she loved to hear him talk all the same.

As he went on about the book he had just finished reading, Gilly became distracted by car lights shining through the curtains of her window, which faced out to the private driveway enclave. She pushed back the curtains and saw a black cab come to a stop by the fountain in the middle of the square.

“Sam, I really do need to get to bed, I’ll text you tomorrow?” she cut him off, too distracted and wanting to turn off her light so whoever was out there wouldn’t know she was still up. She had heard the Princess come back a little earlier that night, so she was unsure who would be out so late. Lyanna, who lived across the courtyard, rarely went anywhere and she knew Grey had stayed put all evening.

She was surprised when Captain Mormont stepped out of the cab. Gilly had known him peripherally for a few years, and now she worked with him every day as he planned out Daenerys’ schedule, which dictated Gilly’s work. He had always been like a reliable clock – on time andd meticulous. He was kind to her and good-natured. Everyone liked him when he had worked with Prince Rhaegar, and now she knew first-hand why.

So seeing him practically stumble into the apartments at half-past two in the morning, looking disheveled, seemed completely out of place for him. Scared of him seeing her, she quickly closed her curtains and went to bed. She never gossiped with the other staff, but she still wondered where he had been and if the Princess knew about it.

 

 

 


	12. Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!
> 
> So sorry for the massive delay here. I went on vacation to London, which was amazing and I loved dreaming up more about this story, and then work has gotten a bit in the way. I promise there will be more regular updates. You are all fantastic and I am loving all the content in this fandom right now. I hope you still enjoy and hope to chat with you all soon!

Petyr Baelish took a sip of his strong, black tea as he looked over the various photographs and newspapers in front of him. Each consecutive headline inched his current smirk further up the right-hand side of his face.

**_The Princess is a Player: Two Men in One Week_ **

****

**_A Match Made in Royal Heaven: Daenerys Targaryen and Robb Stark – Everything We Know_ **

****

**_Young Love: A Night on the Town for Britain’s Most Eligible Royals_ **

****

**_Picky Princess – Has She Dumped Daario?_ **

Good or bad, the headlines were coverage in the right direction and Petyr felt he was fulfilling what both his King and Eddard Stark had asked of him. He would make Daenerys and Robb’s romance appear as one for the ages, no matter what it took.

 

Setting the dailies down, Petyr looked up at his companion, sitting across his desk and sipping her lemon tea. “These are even more promising…”

 

“If you think so…” Sansa Stark said, leaning over to look at the new pile of pictures. They were not of the best quality and taken with a telephoto lens through the window of her hotel room the night before. There were a few of Sansa and Jorah talking, standing close to one another, and then at least a dozen of them locked in an embrace, kissing. Sansa fidgeted with her teacup, uncomfortable that Petyr was studying them so closely.

 

He had paid for the photographer and bought the memory card as well. No one would see these photos if he didn’t want them to. And for now, they would reside under lock and key in his desk drawer. “Looks as if he didn’t stay very long, according to the timestamps.”

 

Sansa sighed. Although she had a few blissful moments kissing Jorah, he didn’t stay for anything more, and that had left her feeling rather dejected and agitated. He had said he didn’t want things to move too quickly between them and part of her was sad, but the other part was thankful _that_ wasn’t caught on film. “Maybe fifteen minutes…Petyr, Captain Mormont is a good man. Why do you want this to blackmail him?”

 

Petyr sat back in his chair and steepled his hands as he looked across at his beautiful Sansa and thought through the elaborate web of lies and favors and plans that he had spun in the past six months. The only piece of the puzzle that he couldn’t credit himself to was Rhaegar’s death.

 

Lynesse Hightower – formerly Lynesse Mormont -- was Lady Catelyn Stark’s closest friend and confidante, even before her marriage when she was still Catelyn Tully. The Hightowers, Baelish’s, Tully’s, and Starks were all old, noble families in rather close proximity in the North of England. Petyr, Lynesse, and Cat all ran in the same social circles from a very young age and Petyr wasn’t more than a boy of eleven when he developed a crush on Cat. His ardor was very briefly returned before Cat was set up with Eddard Stark and they were married shortly after. Petyr then turned his attentions to Lynesse and was led on until she found Jorah Mormont, a man from a respected military family, but not a noble one. It enraged Petyr that a man so beneath both of them could win her heart. It still did to this day.

 

All of them remained socially entangled throughout the years, as Petyr climbed the ranks of the Royal Household, Cat and Eddard situated themselves as the second strongest House in Britain, and Jorah began to work with Rhaegar.

 

Petyr still held a torch for both Lynesse and Cat and would do anything they asked. When Lynesse and Jorah’s marriage began to show cracks, he fueled the fire – passing falsities to Cat who he knew would tell Lynesse - lies about seeing Jorah with other women and a made-up drinking problem, finally culminating in Petyr securing the best divorce lawyer in Britain for Lynesse so that she could take nearly everything from Jorah. And she did.

 

Petyr thought that would have given him some satisfaction, as he hated the man. Jorah was so well-liked throughout the palace, a war hero, and a true friend to Rhaegar in a way that Petyr knew he would never fully be with Aerys. But Lynesse still didn’t want Petyr after her divorce so he started to focus more of his attention on Cat and her wants.

 

Cat and Ned wanted one of their children as a Prince or Princess and Petyr knew he could make that happen. And he wasn’t going to stop at only one. Robb and Daenerys were working out swimmingly, but Sansa and Viserys were a different story.

 

It was partially because Sansa and Viserys hardly wanted anything to do with one another, and partially because Petyr didn’t want to let Sansa go. Not quite yet.

 

They had been sleeping together for about six months and Petyr reveled in the knowledge that not only did he finally have an even more attractive substitute for Cat or Lynesse warming his bed, but that she was proving essential to some of his other schemes as well.

 

Until today, when she had questioned his motives regarding Jorah.

 

Sansa was feisty and opportunistic, much like her mother, and she hadn’t initially doubted her lover’s plot to put Jorah in a compromising situation. Lynesse had asked him to destroy Jorah’s reputation and he was eager to comply for his own personal reasons. He knew it would have to be a long game and having Sansa seduce him and then framing him as the predator would not only remove him from his station in the Royal Family, but also endear the public to Sansa, which he needed if he was going to make anything happen with her and Viserys. But it all had to happen at the right time, so he was slowly gathering his evidence and what he needed. However, as he looked at Sansa’s face, he knew immediately that something was wrong.

 

“You think Captain Mormont is a good man?” Petyr repeated, watching for her tells. She started to bite on her bottom lip and his heart sank. “You are falling for him, aren’t you?”

 

“What? No…of course not…” Sansa shook her head, quickly raising her tea cup back up to her lips. Petyr leaned back in his chair. This was _not_ part of his plan.

 

**~o0o~**

“I’m not going to lie, I’ve missed you, mate. But what is this all about?” Jamie Lannister asked as he slid onto the barstool next to Jorah, who was looking up at the Chelsea/Arsenal game on the tv above the bar, absently eating a packet of salt and vinegar crisps.

 

“I’m in trouble…” Jorah sighed, turning to his friend in the pub. It was nearly empty inside, past the lunch rush and Jorah had a few hours before he needed to be back at Kensington. Jamie ordered a pint for himself and a second round for Jorah.

 

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?” Jamie asked. Jorah still wasn’t used to seeing him without his arm. His shirtsleeve hung limp and it was a painful reminder of what they had all endured.

 

“Sansa Stark is what is wrong…” Jorah grumbled and took a sip of his ale. “Jamie, I am coming to you for advice. As a friend. We don’t have Rhaegar anymore…”

 

“God rest his soul.” Jamie raised his glass just a little and took a drink, “You have me. And you always will. Now tell me…”

 

“She’s been after me for weeks now. And God, I want to cave. I really do…” Jorah ran a hand over his face and then back through his hair. It had been torture to turn and walk out of Sansa’s hotel room after kissing her. But he was drunk and he had other things on his mind. And another woman. And that was what confused him the most.

 

“So why don’t you?” Jamie asked. He knew out of anyone, Jorah deserved to be loved. He was a good man and had been through hell.

 

“If people found out…her mother, you know…”

 

“She’s friends with Lynesse, how could any of us forget?” Jamie hated that shrew of a woman. He had watched with Rhaegar as everything fell apart for Jorah. “But if it’s real with her, doesn’t it deserve an honest go?”

 

“Because of the Princess.” Jorah stated, looking back up at the game, trying to distract himself.

 

“Your love life is none of her concern unless you want it to be. I know us guys always talked, but it doesn’t have to be the same with her. She doesn’t need to know…” Jamie offered.

 

“But she hates Sansa. The girl hasn’t been very nice to her.”

 

“And what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. You deserve this. You deserve to have some fun and have a pretty girl on your arm. God knows I wish I had that…”

 

“The thing is, I don’t want to hurt her…” Jorah said quietly, and Jamie studied his friends’ face. Now he knew why Jorah had called him. This was much more than just giving advice on whether or not to have sex with Lady Stark.

 

“You care about Daenerys’ opinion of you. Because you cared about Rhaegar’s opinion and you don’t have him around anymore, is that right?”

 

Jorah stayed silent and drank, trying to come to terms with his own feelings as Jamie tried to draw them out of him.

 

“ _Or_ , you have feelings for her, and you don’t want this thing with Sansa to ruin any chance you may have with her.”

 

Jaime hit home with his words and Jorah finally looked at the man sitting next to him. “But I would never have a chance with her, that’s the thing.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“I’m not a Stark. I don’t come from a family line that Aerys would _ever_ deem acceptable for her. I work for her, _and him_. And look at me – middle aged, relatively poor…”

 

“You don’t have my looks, that’s true,” Jamie smirked, “But one of the most gorgeous girls in Britain is already trying to hold you down. I’d say you have more of a chance with Daenerys Targaryen than anyone else I know.”

 

Jaime gave Jorah a knowing look and Jorah raised an eyebrow, “What did Rhaegar tell you?”

 

“That he hoped the two of you would end up together. And that he was telling me in case you never got the letter he wrote for you. But I’m guessing you did,” Jaime smiled, “Look, mate - stranger things have happened – if you want to be with Sansa, I support you. If you want to try with Daenerys, I support you too. Both paths are going to be rough, but you just need to decide what you want.”

 

**~o0o~**

“The Princess just got back from her day out with Lyanna. I think between the two of them, they bought out half of Harrods.” Grey smiled as he greeted Jorah when he returned back from the pub. Jaime had given him quite a lot to think about, and he needed to start making some decisions and examine what his heart was trying to tell him.

 

“Unsurprising. Lyanna brings out the clothes horse in her…” Jorah noted. He remembered conversations with Rhaegar when his girlfriend would take the Princess out shopping and they would both come home laden with dozens of bags. It drove Rhaegar mad, but he never denied Lyanna anything that she wanted, even if it meant giving up closet space.

 

“She’s in the living room watching the telly. She had us order in Indian – it’s in the kitchen. I’d grab some before Gilly takes all of the naan.” Grey advised and Jorah headed to the kitchen, where, sure enough, Gilly was sheepishly snacking on the last piece of naan. Jorah made a quick plate for himself, set on finishing the night off in his office to plan for the week.

 

But he felt like he had barely seen the Princess in a few days. Part of him wanted to ask her how her date had gone, since he had been the one to plan it. And part of him just wanted to see her smile.

 

He ventured into the living room and saw her with her legs tucked underneath her on the couch, her long, blonde hair down, and in black leggings and an oversized Rolling Stones t-shirt. Her plate of chicken tikka was set aside and she was thoroughly entranced in whatever she was watching.

 

“Good call on the take out,” Jorah said and she looked up at him with a smile. It made his heart thump faster in his chest.

 

“I was craving it…come on…eat with me…” she patted the seat on the couch next to her and he hesitated.

 

“I should get some work done, Princess.”

 

She raised an eyebrow at him, not liking his answer.

 

“Fine, just for a bit…” he acquiesced and sat down as far away from her on the couch as possible and started to dig into his dinner. “What are you watching?”

 

“The new season of Great British Bake Off just started and I’m obsessed, have you never watched it?” Daenerys looked at him, surprised.

 

“Your brother and I only watched football, rugby, and cricket, I’m afraid. And the occasional superhero movie,” Jorah shrugged, “But there is a first time for everything.”

 

“You’ll love it, I promise. And if you don’t, well, then you can just tell me you liked it anyway,” she teased. She was in a happy mood and Jorah wondered if it was from Robb or just a nice day spent with her best friend. Whatever it was, it drew him closer to her as she explained the premise of the show and they watched everyone bake for the next forty minutes, laughing together at the cheeky comments of the hosts and marveling at some of the cakes.

 

But it wasn’t really the show that caught Jorah’s attention. In fact, he barely kept a pulse on what was happening there. He was too busy looking at her when she wasn’t aware. Noticing the small diamond studs in her ears, and the way she was picking off some of her nail polish. The way her eyes crinkled when she laughed at the show, or the genuine earnestness in her voice when she turned to explain something to him. It was so endearing that he wished he could stay in that moment forever.

 

In another life, it would have been simple. Just him and his beautiful girlfriend on the couch in their house watching tv and eating takeout. But it was all just a fantasy that Jorah was happy to entertain in his head as he spent the night next to her instead of in his office, alone.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I love you all!


	13. Love is in the Air

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Yay! Thanks for re-joining me on this journey and I hope this quick update makes up for my previous delay. Things are starting to develop between Jorah and the Princess, but of course...it can't be too easy, right?

Daenerys woke suddenly, drawing in a sharp breath and coughing lightly as her body struggled with the odd position it was contorted into. Her neck was bent sharply to the left and her whole left side was numb.

 

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room and she quickly found the grandfather clock by the wall – 4:43 a.m. She realized she had fallen asleep on the couch and then…

 

“ _Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God_ …” she whispered to herself, panicking when she saw that she had fallen asleep on Captain Jorah Mormont’s chest. Her heart was doing somersaults, but a quick glance told her he was still asleep.

 

The night before started to replay in her mind. How he had walked into the living room and she couldn’t have been happier to see him. How he had sweetly tolerated her television binge session and then how they had talked for hours.

 

_About Rhaegar. And how much they both missed him._

_A debate about the best place in West London to get a proper curry._

_The absurd number of things she had bought at Harrods._

_How he hadn’t been shopping in ages, but that when he did go, he preferred one specific tailor on Saville._

 

And their conversations kept going. It felt so light and easy and she loved talking to him. And not once did either of them bring up her date with Robb. In fact, Daenerys hadn’t even thought about it.

 

She didn’t remember what happened after that but could only assumed they talked themselves into a stupor and fell asleep. And now she wished she hadn’t woken up. Beyond the crick in her neck, sleeping on his muscular chest was rather fantastic. He was warm and smelled good and just being in such close proximity to him was making the baby hairs all over her body stand on end.

 

Daenerys knew she needed to get back to her own bed. A Princess shouldn’t be sleeping on the couch, let alone with her equerry. She carefully moved off of the couch, careful not to wake him, and padded down the hallway to her room. Once inside, she flopped onto her bed and held her pillow close to her, fully aware that she was acting like a teenager with a ridiculous crush and fell back to sleep with a smile on her face.

 

**~o0o~**

“Princess, could we speak?”

 

Daenerys wasn’t expecting anyone else after Jorah had come to give his morning report and she was starting to ready herself for the day ahead with Gilly’s help. When Jorah had walked into her room, there was a very small, almost minuscule difference in the way they interacted. No one outside of them would have noticed it, but she did. He seemed a little more comfortable with her, even though he didn’t mention the night before. Still, there was a shift in their energy and smiles passed more frequently between them. Daenerys was still playing the morning meeting over in her head, wondering if she was reading into things as Gilly helped to steam her outfits for the first day of London Fashion Week. When Grey knocked and entered the room, she was honestly surprised at his formality.

 

“Of course, Gilly, could you give us a moment alone?”

 

“Yes, your Grace.” Gilly dipped her head and left the room, shutting the door behind her. Grey was fidgeting with his hands as he took a step forward into her large bedroom.

 

“Princess, I would like to ask your permission to take Missy on a date.”

 

It wasn’t even ten yet and Daenerys’ day was going better than she expected. She tried her hardest to hide her glee as Grey looked down at his freshly shined shoes to avoid her eyes. The chemistry between her best friend and him was obvious and there had been time when Dany had thought it was only one-sided. She was happy to see that now Grey felt the same.

 

“And why would you like to date my best friend?” Daenerys kept up her charade, hiding her smile as she asked, her tone almost too formal.

 

“Missy is the most intelligent, thoughtful, and beautiful woman I have ever met.” Grey said resolutely, surer of his words than anything else in his life. Daenerys finally cracked a smile.

 

“Grey, you have known myself and Missy for a very long time and I know she has feelings for you. You didn’t have to ask my permission, but I wholeheartedly grant it anyway. There is nothing more I would like than to see the two of you happy together.” As Daenerys spoke, she saw Grey’s usually stoic face light up in both relief and happiness. “But I know we are short-staffed and that you and Gilly and Captain Mormont work too many hours to have decent personal lives. I’m going to talk to my father about bringing on some more help so that you can actually have time to take Missy out. But for now, whatever time you would like to go on your first official date, I am sure Captain Mormont can handle security detail for a few hours.”

 

“Thank you, Princess, truly.” Grey nodded in appreciation and left so that Gilly could come back in. Daenerys was practically bursting at the good news and turned to Gilly, now eager to hear more about the love lives of her staff.

 

“Gilly, tell me about your boyfriend…”

 

**~o0o~**

A few hours later, the Princess and Grey walked into the Banqueting House, where the Dior show was being held – the first of many that day. She had multiple outfits in the car to wear to each subsequent show, as she couldn’t be caught repeating anything. She would be crucified in the tabloids.

 

Daenerys loved fashion week, but she didn’t love that all eyes were on her during this time. Viserys and Rhaegar had never attended, so what she wore set the trends for the season and it was quite a lot of pressure to be beholden to.

 

Grey kept a steady hand on her upper back as he led her through the crowds of tourists eager to catch a glimpse of celebrities entering the show, and terrifyingly aggressive paparazzi. The task was made more difficult by her towering black Dior heels.

 

“ _Princess…where’s your boyfriend?”_

 

“ _How many guys have you slept with this week?”_

“Oy, fuck off!” Grey yelled back at them, still shielding the Princess as best as he could as he led her to the door and out of the madness. “Don’t listen to them. They don’t know you.”

 

Daenerys gave him a grateful smile as he helped her with her black trench and led her to her seat in the front row. It was a fantastic place to sit. Next to Victoria Beckham, Kate Moss, and…

 

“Hello Lady Sansa.” Daenerys said cordially as she sat down next to the red-head and crossed her ankles demurely. She was suddenly very glad she had chosen last minute to wear her vintage, 50’s H-Line dress given to her by the House of Dior personally instead of the plaid skirt suit from the 2018 ready-to-wear collection, as that was what Sansa had on and looked inescapably beautiful in. She thanked her intuition and turned to make small-talk with Kate as more people filed in and Sansa ignored her, too busy texting away on her phone.

 

**~o0o~**

Jorah sat in his office, looking out over the front gardens of Kensington Palace. His office had one of the few views of the front of the palace, but only just barely. There was an exceedingly long line of tourists that day, all eager to see the museum, learn about Daenerys’ mother, and try their best to take pictures of the apartments where he and the Princess and Lyanna lived.

 

That morning he had awoken at around six on the living room couch, puzzled and uncomfortable. But then he remembered how he and the Princess had spent the night watching television and talking and he hadn’t been able to think of anything else all morning, which was severely distracting him from his work. She had looked so beautiful and happy when he came to brief her on her schedule, and even more stunning when she had left the apartments with Grey on their way to the first of many fashion shows. Daenerys had extended the offer for him to come, but he would have only stood out.

 

And he was getting a play-by-play from Sansa anyway.

 

**Sansa [1:18 p.m.]: Benedict Cumberbatch is here.**

 

Jorah shook his head, coming to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t be getting much work done. He and Sansa hadn’t spoken much since he left her hotel room, but things seemed normal enough today.

 

**Jorah [1:18 p.m.]: Who?**

 

**Sansa [1:19 p.m.]: That guy from that weird superhero movie you like. Dr. Something?**

 

Jorah chuckled. He wasn’t very good with celebrities or remembering their names, but he found that pretty cool.

 

**Jorah [1:20 p.m.]: Dr. Strange. Say hi for me then. Aren’t you supposed to be watching a fashion show?**

 

**Sansa [1:21 p.m.]: It hasn’t started yet. The Princess just arrived. Everyone is going crazy, of course.**

 

Jorah could almost hear the annoyance in Sansa’s tone and he didn’t like it, but he wasn’t surprised. Britain loved Daenerys and that wasn’t going to change. He sensed that Sansa felt threatened by her.

 

**Jorah [1:22 p.m.]: I’m sure you look lovelier.**

 

He didn’t know why he sent that. He partially felt guilty for leaving her and although his body regretted it, his heart felt as if it was warring with itself.

 

**Sansa [1:24 p.m.]: I want to see you soon. So we can finally finish what we started the other night. I won’t take no for an answer. Gtg – it’s starting**

 

Jorah set his phone down and sighed. He was playing a very dangerous game with Sansa…one that he knew couldn’t go on forever, especially since after this morning he was sure his blossoming feelings for the Princess weren’t just remnants of missing Rhaegar. He wouldn’t have been able to talk to her for hours about everything and nothing at all if he was just looking for a substitute of him. He wouldn’t be so entranced by her laugh and her smile and her hair and her eyes. Rhaegar was a handsome man, but he sure as hell didn’t spend time thinking about _his_ eyes.

 

He was startled out of his little daydream when his office line rang. It was Robb Stark’s equerry.

 

“ _Fuck.”_

**~o0o~**

“Sorry, your Grace. It’s nice to see you…” Sansa apologized to Daenerys when the blonde turned back to her and she gave her an air kiss on each cheek. “Just texting with my boyfriend and sometimes it’s hard to think about anything else, you know?”

 

“Sure…” Daenerys shrugged awkwardly as Sansa giggled. “I…I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”

 

Sansa knew she shouldn’t have said it, but it had given her a momentary thrill to be texting Captain Mormont while sitting right next to her. She was jealous that the Princess got to see him every day.

 

“It’s super casual. I mean, if your brother would just look my way…”

 

Both Sansa and Daenerys knowingly laughed at the thought of Viserys paying attention to anyone other than himself. “Is your boyfriend someone I know?”

 

“I daresay he is,” Sansa instantly regretted saying that as well, “But it’s a secret,” she winked cheekily, “How was your date with my brother?”

 

“It was very nice. I’m looking forward to another…” Daenerys said diplomatically as the lights started to dim.

 

“I know he does too,” Sansa said, starting to get nervous that she had given too much away. She knew Petyr would be livid if she had done anything to derail his plans, so she tried to do a bit of damage control and mention the man she had been texting as if her crush was still unrequited, “How is Captain Mormont doing? I think you should invite me for tea again just so I can stare at his pretty cheekbones.”

 

Daenerys had to bite the inside of her lip to keep herself from saying something she shouldn’t and was thankful that the music started to play, and the first model strode out onto the catwalk. Even though she had had a wonderful morning, was sitting front row at the hottest Fashion Week show in London, with her picture being taken even more than the models, Daenerys wasn’t having a good time anymore. The woman next to her had brought out all of her insecurities with a single conversation.

 

Instead of the gorgeous clothes and gorgeous models walking past her, all Princess Daenerys could think of was that she wasn’t the only one who wanted Captain Mormont, even if Sansa did have a boyfriend. Knowing Sansa, that meant nothing. And if given a choice, why would Jorah ever pick her over someone as beautiful as Sansa?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading - can't wait to chat!


	14. Royally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for keeping up with this story and for all of your support! This chapter is a bit different as it lays the groundwork for some events to come. I hope you enjoy!

“Oh God, not again…” Melisandre sighed as she entered Viserys’ room after minutes of knocking politely. Even though her salary was decent, she didn’t get paid enough to deal with _this_.

Viserys was lying in the middle of his canopied bed, naked as the day he was born, passed out cold. Melisandre always wondered what these girls saw in him other than the heir to the throne, because he was gangly and didn’t have much going on _down there_. Or anywhere else, really. When she turned on the lights, the two girls lying on either side of the future King were startled awake and they groaned.

“Get dressed, time for you to go.” Melisandre said and she felt like a broken record, repeating this mantra to multiple young women more days than not. They pulled on their skimpy dresses, grabbed their heels, and shuffled meekly past her out the door with messy hair and smeared eye-makeup.

His whole room was littered with remnants of whatever bender he had gone on the night before, including half a dozen empty hard liquor bottles and remnants of coke on the glass tabletop. Every time this happened, she told Petyr, and Petry told the King. But nothing ever changed.

As if conjured from her thoughts, Petyr appeared in the doorway, his arms crossed as he surveyed the pathetic scene before him. “Did you check for a pulse?”

“I was too busy getting the girls up and out,” Melisandre grumbled and walked over to Viserys, placing two fingers on his neck. “He’s fine.” She feared the day she wouldn’t feel anything.

“He’s going to kill himself.” Petyr stated the obvious. He had been putting off broaching the subject of treatment with the King for a while, but it needed to be done. Viserys needed rehab, otherwise his sister would be staring the monarchy in the face. And that wouldn’t do. He wanted his dear Sansa to be Queen consort. He promised her that. And besides, she would be much easier to influence than Aerys or Daenerys.

Petyr left Melisandre to finish cleaning up and walked tersely to the other side of Buckingham, giving the staff he saw along the way his usual strained smile. When he reached the King’s office, he knocked twice and was bid entry.

“Your Grace,” Petyr inclined his head. Aerys was reading over some documents, preparing for his weekly meeting with the Prime Minister.

“What is it, Baelish?”

“It’s Viserys, I’m afraid…” Petyr started and Aerys looked up suddenly, panic in his violet-tinged eyes. It was the same look as the night Rhaegar was pronounced dead and Petry was quick to calm him. “He’s fine. It’s only that Melisandre and I have seen some disturbing patterns to his behavior lately that aren’t doing him any favors. As the heir, he needs to act as such, not do lines of cocaine off of strippers and pass out drunk until one in the afternoon.”

King Aerys sighed. It wasn’t as if this was news to him, but it stung to hear it all the same. Rhaegar and Daenerys were very similar, but Viserys had always been the wild card. He was prone to extreme narcissism and addictive behaviors, much like Aerys was without his wife to keep him in check.

“What do you suggest?”

“I’m sure the Prime Minister will surely speak with you when he gets here about your families’ approval ratings. And how yours is rather low after no public appearances since Rhaegar’s death and Viserys’ is even lower. Only the Princess is keeping this family in the public’s good graces. Viserys _needs_ to go to rehab, do some charity work in front of as many cameras as possible, marry Lady Stark and produce an heir.” Petyr said.

“Rehab…” Aerys slumped in his chair. “And how do we spin that?”

“He’s off on a polo intensive, or to spend some time with his friends hunting. _Anything_. We’ll get him in and out in a few weeks, and put the fear of God, the Crown, and his country into him. He’ll come back sober and we’ll put him in the spotlight once again. And Daenerys…”

“What about my daughter?”

“Everyone loves her. But she’s overshadowing him. And we know what that does to Viserys’ already fragile ego,” Petyr reasoned. He had all of this planned out and now was the moment to execute it, “She needs to continue to be herself while giving Viserys some breathing room. She should go on a Commonwealth Tour. Both boys went on one and she’s never traveled. She should before she’s married to Robb.”

Aerys seemed to consider it. It was a fine plan and he trusted Petyr implicitly. “Alright, make the arrangements with Captain Mormont for the tour. And have Captain Lannister go as well. Three weeks. Have them end in Scotland and Viserys and I will join them there. And as for Viserys, find somewhere discreet and have him leave as soon as possible.”

“Of course, your Grace. I’ll…”

“Get out of here, Baelish.” Prime Minister Lannister hadn’t bothered to knock. He never did with King Aerys, and as his shorter than average legs carried him to the middle of the room, he waved his hand to dismiss Petyr.

“ _You’re late_ …” the King had gone back to making some notes on the papers in front of him.

“If my new, absolute _imbecile_ of a driver Bronn hadn’t hit a pedestrian on the way here, I assure you, your Highness, I would have been on time,” Tyrion took a seat opposite the King, clearly in a bad mood, “He had the audacity to say that if you hit a biker in London, that they should just shrug it off…”

“Keep calm and carry on,” Petyr added with a smirk before leaving the two to their meeting. He couldn’t believe how easy it had been. The Princess would be out of the way and she would take his dear Sansa’s new crush with her. He just needed to get Viserys sober…

**~o0o~**

“I think this is becoming quite a bad habit of ours,” Jorah frowned, sitting on the same pub bar stool next to Jaime Lannister as he did a few days prior. Only this time it was a rugby match they were watching.

“On the contrary, I rather like it. We haven’t seen nearly enough of one another lately and we are simply making up for lost time.” Jaime touched his pint to Jorah’s and both men took a sip. The Princess was at her third fashion show of the day and both of them had received a call from Petyr earlier about going on a Commonwealth Tour. Jorah had invited Jaime over to Kensington to plan for it, but his friend had soon talked him into a few drinks.

“Soon we’ll be traveling together, like old times,” Jorah said. Those times felt like a lifetime ago, even it had only been a few months.

“Your girlfriend will miss you,” Jaime playfully ribbed Jorah with his elbow before cheering along with the other pub-goers over a particularly skillful play on the telly.

“Sansa is not my girlfriend…”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed your mobile blowing up this entire time. Last time we were sitting here, you had a choice to make and I’m guessing you chose her.” Jaime didn’t sound judgmental about it, but he was curious.

“I haven’t quite made up my mind,” Jorah admitted. He had been ignoring all of Sansa’s messages for a few hours now, ever since he heard that he would be going on the tour with the Princess for three weeks. “But I will need to tell her that I’m leaving…”

“Sounds like something you would do for a girlfriend…” Jaime kept on, “But honestly, mate, I just started seeing someone and even though it’s only a few weeks away, I think I’m going to miss her too.”

“Are you taking the piss?” Jorah turned to look at him, laughing and almost spitting out his sip of beer, “You…Jaime Lannister, who has notoriously _never_ been tied down to anyone, actually may have feelings for a woman?”

“Is it really so hard to believe? I’m not getting any younger and she’s, well, she’s _different_ …”

Jorah smiled at the look on Jaime’s face. Whoever this girl was, he cared a little bit more than he let on and Jorah was only too happy to take a break from discussing his complicated shell of a love-life for this much more interesting turn of events, “Tell me about her.”

“Her name is Brienne and she is intelligent, and funny, and she also happens to be Norway’s top-ranked women’s MMA fighter and she can kick my arse seven ways from Sunday if she wanted to,” Jaime sighed. If Jorah didn’t know better, he would say Jaime looked rather wistful as he stared back up at the telly, but that could just be because his team was winning, “She teaches at a Jiu Jitsu place by me that I started taking classes at.”

“If she can kick your arse, she sounds like a woman after my own heart,” Jorah teased as his mobile lit up again. He was about to just turn it over and enjoy the rest of the game, but he noticed the text was coming through on the secure chat set up with The Princess, the one that only he and Grey had access to.

 **Khaleesi:** _Hi Jorah. I gave Grey the night off to go on a date. I thought I would be staying in, but Sansa invited me to a party she is hosting with Stella McCartney tonight. I need security – would you mind? If not, I can have Grey ask Cpt. Lannister._

“Is that Sansa again?” Jaime asked when Jorah picked up the phone to message the Princess back. As soon as he had seen the code-name Grey had given her appear on his screen, his heart started to beat faster.

“It’s the Princess…”

 **Jorah:** _Text me the address and the time and I’ll meet you there._

“And you have a smile on your face.” Jaime smirked, “Did she send you a naughty picture?”

Jorah felt heat rise up his neck at the mention of Daenerys and ‘naughty picture’ in the same sentence and shook his head to get rid of the image threatening to take hold in his brain, “No, she asked me to cover for Grey as her detail tonight at a party that Sansa will also be at.”

As soon as he finished his sentence, Jorah realized what a mistake he had made. He should have passed it off to Jaime or found someone else. But he had agreed so readily because he hadn’t been thinking about anything more than making sure the Princess was taken care of. But now he would be spending the evening in the presence of one woman who wanted to sleep with him and one woman he wanted to sleep with.

And now he had just admitted to himself that he wanted to sleep with the Princess.

He finished his pint and then quickly ordered another round for them both. How could he have been so stupid to agree to this?

Jaime just laughed, “You are royally fucked.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of love xx


	15. Just a Fantasy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! This is quite the important chapter as it is a real turning point for Jorah and Daenerys' relationship. Be prepared for a little bit of fluff and a LOT of angst. But don't worry, the slow burn is going to start turning into a fire.

After he and Jaime had finished their beers and the Princess had texted him the address of the party, Jorah made a quick stop back at the Kensington Palace apartments to change into a suit. He chose his favorite one, dark midnight blue that contrasted nicely with his light eyes. After he buttoned up his crisp white shirt (leaving a few of the top buttons undone to not appear too stuffy), he slipped his dark leather holster over his shoulders and entered the code on his safe in his office for his handgun. With his suit jacket on, no one would be able to see he was carrying.

It had been a long while since he had carried a gun out in the city. He practiced at the range regularly with Jaime and Grey, but only to keep himself in top form for rare instances like tonight – he would be all too happy to never have to fire a weapon again after his days in the military. But even if he removed himself from it entirely, the mindset would never really leave him. He had seen so many horrors and those were nothing compared to Rhaegar making the ultimate sacrifice and Jaime losing his arm.

And he was the Princesses’ only lifeline for the night, which he took incredibly seriously. A large party was not an easy situation to control, especially with his growing personal feelings for her thrown into the mix.

He looked at himself in the mirror, hoping he wouldn’t appear too out of place. He didn’t have a clue what this type of gathering entailed. But if he was being truly honest with himself, all he really cared about was how the Princess thought he looked.

Jorah passed by Lyanna, laden with Chinese takeout, and headed into her apartments as he was headed out. She was quick to assure him that the Princess had invited her to the party, but she would rather stay in and watch true crime documentaries. As he wished her a nice evening and headed towards Daario’s old motorbike (otherwise known as his _new_ motorbike) that he kept parked in the courtyard, Jorah felt a pang of sadness wash over him. He remembered that when Rhaegar and Lyanna wanted a simple night together, Jorah would order them in Chinese and they would watch their crime shows together. That was a true love if he ever saw it. He could only hope that he would find what the Prince and Lyanna had one day – even if it was as short-lived.

The party was at the Victoria and Albert museum, just a short ride down from the palace. Showing his credentials, Jorah was able to park his bike right out front of the staggeringly beautiful front visage of the museum, all lit up for the party within, the front stairs completely packed with paparazzi and arriving guests.

Jorah knew next to nothing about fashion, preferring only one British tailor for his suits, but even _he_ knew who Stella McCartney was. This was a big deal, surely, and he felt a twinge of pride for Sansa. Co-hosting a fashion week party was impressive, but one at this level was quite astonishing.

Another quick flash of his authorization and he was let into the party without question, ahead of the line of dozens of others waiting patiently to be checked off the guest list. Once inside, he noticed some of the museum roped off, making a pathway for the guests through the sculpture gallery and out to the boxed-in courtyard. There was a DJ under the large Chihuly glass sculpture and a number of bars sprinkled throughout. There were so many distractions, but his first priority was to check-in with the Princess. He pulled out his mobile to message her.

 **Jorah** : _Just walked in. Where are you?_

He saw a flash of red out of the corner of his eye as he waited for Daenerys’ reply. A longer glance confirmed that Sansa was across the entrance hall from him, greeting people with air kisses alongside the infamous Stella. Sansa towered over her co-host and her sky-high heels made the height difference even greater. Jorah couldn’t help but indulge himself looking over her lithe body in a shimmering navy gown – as if she had planned to match him.

 **Khaleesi** : _Just arrived as well. I’m outside, near the water._

Her text snapped him back into reality, and Jorah headed through the sculpture gallery and out into the night. The courtyard was lit up with fairy-lights strung between the old, red brick buildings of the museum and they beautifully illuminated the shallow, circular pool in the middle of the grass.

It didn’t take more than a few seconds for him to pick out the Princess. His eyes were used to always looking for her in any room as of late, but tonight she looked so radiant that it was if there was a spotlight shining on her.

She was surrounded by a group of people Jorah didn’t recognize, and who were clearly very enamored at being in her presence, which was understandable. Her platinum hair was braided intricately down her back and she wore a strapless, pale blue gown with a full skirt that made her look like the living embodiment of a Princess from a Disney film. It had a little bit of a train that trailed delicately behind her and her pale skin seemed to glow in the moonlight as she talked politely with her companions.

It took Jorah’s breath away, seeing her. He always had thought her beautiful, but tonight he had a hard time fathoming that she was even real. A sobering thought hit him -- she was far too out of his league.

“Princess, could I borrow you for a second?” Jorah walked towards her and smiled apologetically at the group. They obliged and a few of them curtseyed before they walked away. The look in Daenerys’ eyes showed how thankful she was for the save.

“I’m glad you are here…people keep propositioning me to post their ridiculous KickStarter ideas on the official Royal Instagram,” she laughed at the thought of it and Jorah offered his arm and led her to a quieter spot near a hedge of rose bushes. “Let’s get you a drink…”

“No drinking on duty, I’m afraid,” Jorah said aloud to mostly remind himself. He would love to sit with her under the stars and keep her company for the evening, but he wasn’t her date. He was simply the security.

“I heard about the Commonwealth Tour…my father called me earlier.” Daenerys smiled up at Jorah and he had to look away and pretend to be surveying the crowd in order not to get too flustered. Her half-blue, half-violet eyes were arresting and he could easily get swept up in them and give himself away.

“I’m working on the plans and they should be done in the next few days. The King did tell you he wants us to leave next week, didn’t he?”

“Yes, after my date with Robb.” No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t hide the sudden distance in her voice when she said his name. Although he knew it was wrong, Jorah derived a bit of pleasure out of the tone of her voice, hoping she wasn’t smitten with the young Stark after all. He still needed to plan that date as well, much to his chagrin.

“I’m going to see if we can get your friend Missy to come along. You’ll be a bit bored with just myself, Grey, and Captain Lannister, I’m sure…” Jorah said, and the Princess smiled at the thought.

“She’s with Grey right now, which is why you are here…” she bit her lip as she leaned closer to him and whispered the gossip, almost conspiratorially. She was starting to feel as if she was just as excited at Grey and Missy’s newly blossoming relationship as they were.

Jorah smirked. Everyone was lucky in love but him. And here he was, standing in front of arguably the most important woman in all of Britain, completely besotted and having no chance in hell with her. “Message me if you need anything, but I’ll be close by. I need to do a perimeter check and _you_ need to enjoy this party. You are wasting your opportunities to talk about clothes and fashion and all that with the like-minded. Because it's completely lost on me.”

The Princess laughed, genuinely, and it made his heart jump as he nodded to her and took off to make sure the party was secure.

**~o0o~  
**

“All of these years and I thought I knew so much about you, but it’s becoming clear I know next to nothing,” Grey admitted to Missy as they walked along the Thames together, down by the Tower of London. They had dinner and drinks at a pub and hadn’t wanted the night to end, so Grey had suggested a walk. After talking non-stop for hours, both of them were reveling in the intimacy of getting to know one another alone, outside of their previously peripheral relationship.

“But you do know things that only someone really close to me would know. Like that I snore – from all of those nights outside of Daenerys’ and mine’s dorm room. Practically _all_ of my food preferences. And that I twirl my curls in between my fingers when I’m nervous…” Missy recounts.

“Which you are doing right now.”

“Maybe I _am_ a bit nervous. It isn’t every day you get to actually go on a date with a man you’ve had a crush on for four years,” she shrugged, blushing, and reached for his hand. They both smiled when he enveloped her smaller hand in his larger, warm one.

“I know exactly how you feel.” He laughed and turned to look at her full lips and her gorgeous honeyed skin and dark eyes. He was nervous as well – having waited such a long while for this moment and he didn't want to screw it up. 

Missy stopped and pulled him closer, taking his other hand. “Grey, you saw me. Really _saw_ me for who I was, and who I am. You’ve never treated me as just the Princesses’ friend. Or cared less about my well-being because I’m not the one you are assigned to protect. And I’m thankful for that.”

“Working for the Princess has been an honor. She’s a good friend to me, and to you. But the real highlight of my work has been knowing that I get to spend time around you. I’ll never take for granted anything that led me to this moment.” Grey said honestly. He took a step forward and closed the distance between them, gently reaching his hand around her to cradle the back of her neck as he pulled her into a kiss.

**~o0o~  
**

After walking around the party, checking the exits and keeping an eye out for anyone who looked even remotely suspicious, Jorah felt it was time to return back to the Princess' side.

He felt his mobile vibrate in his jacket pocket and fished it out, smiling to himself when he saw who had messaged him.

 **Khaleesi:** _Where are you?_

Jorah looked around to find a marker for her. He was standing right near the entrance to the part of the museum dedicated to fashion throughout history, placed in chronological order within a rotunda. He messaged her the location, thinking it might be a nice bit of the museum to explore together. There weren’t too many people and it was quieter, away from the thumping music of the main foyer.

“Jorah… you’ve been playing hard to get…”

He turned around to see Sansa stalking towards him, moving her body slowly as she crossed the hallway, knowing exactly what she was doing with her hips in that dress. He swallowed hard.

“I’ve been working. I’m here for the Princess tonight.”

“I just saw her not too long ago. She looks perfectly happy, and I’m in need of a date…” Sansa smiled when she reached him. With her heels on they were nearly eye-level with one another.

“I have to say, Sansa, that this is pretty incredible,” he told her sincerely, looking around at the party and all of the work she had done to pull it off. “I’m proud of you.”

He was surprised when his comment seemed to catch her off-guard for the slightest of moments. She blushed and then quickly tried to regain her cool, confident demeanor that she always embodied. “Thank you. But as much as I am glad to hear you are proud of me, I’d much rather have you _inside of me_. **  
**

Jorah nearly choked at her leap with words, _Gods was she bold_. “Sansa…”

“We’ve been dancing around this and as I've said, I’m not going to take no for an answer,” Sansa whispered it with her red lips against his ear and it took every ounce of his self-control to remain composed.

“Sansa, I need to watch the Princess and make sure she gets home in one piece,” he reiterated. He wasn’t sure if he could keep saying ‘no’ to her. Every man had a breaking point and she was pushing him dangerously close to his.

“Then get her home. She doesn’t dictate what you do after she goes to bed, does she?”

Jorah sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, steeling himself. As much as part of him wanted to leave this party with her, he also knew he needed to talk to her about the Tour. Hopefully a few weeks away from one another would be a good thing, “I need to talk to you about something…”

**~o0o~  
**

Daenerys grabbed another glass of champagne as one of the waiters came by with dozens of bubbly flutes on a tray. She had been looking for Jorah but then ran into the woman of the hour and started talking to Stella about wearing some of her designs on the Commonwealth Tour. It was too short-notice for something custom, but the quintessentially British fashion maven promised the Princess that she would put some looks together for her.

She felt her phone buzz from within her black clutch and excused herself from the conversation.

 **Jorah:** _I’m over by the history of fashion room. Meet me there?_

Daenerys knew exactly where he was – it was one of her favorite parts of the V&A and she carefully picked her way through the crowd with her champagne in hand, which wasn’t an easy thing to do once people recognized her and started falling over themselves to curtsey. With a room full of overly-served socialites, curtseys appeared less than graceful.

But all Daenerys had on her mind was seeing Jorah again. Maybe she had built it up a little too much in her mind, but when he had shown up out in the courtyard, looking like James Bond in his suit, she had _thought_ he had looked at her differently. The way his eyes had slowly grazed over her in her dress made her stomach flip, and not unpleasantly. She knew he had a job to do, but part of her had wished he could just accompany her tonight as her date. It was ridiculous, she knew that, but her ridiculous crush on him was growing by the day.

 _Surely I imagined the way he was looking at me…_ She reasoned with herself. She should _never_ feel this way about her private secretary, but there she was, thinking of him all the time and the moment she had found out that he would be joining her on the Commonwealth Tour, her imagination had run wild over all the opportunities she would have to spend time with him. Alone. Away from forced dates with Robb Stark, who was nice, but certainly hadn’t captured her attention in the way Captain Mormont had done, slowly over the last few weeks and then suddenly all at once when she found herself waking up from sleeping on his chest.

The crowd thinned as she walked away from the bars and music and towards the exhibits. Then she saw him, his body angled away from her and he was with someone.

_He was with Sansa Stark._

_And she had her blood-red nails against the stubble on his cheeks._

_She had her body pressed against his and had her head tilted up to kiss him._

Daenerys dropped her champagne glass. It fell right out of her hand, crashed onto the floor, and broke apart like all of the built-up the notions she had in her head of her and Jorah.

 _He had texted her to meet him. Why would he do this?_ Nothing made sense to her racing mind.

Jorah heard the crash of glass breaking. He turned away from Sansa and his eyes locked with hers for a moment. She saw confusion and guilt mar his face. But she didn’t want to stand around and see any more or hear any explanation.

 _He doesn’t owe you one. He isn’t yours._ She repeated in her head like a mantra, trying to remind herself of the clear difference between reality and fantasy. She had already embarrassed herself by dropping the glass and she didn’t want to cause a scene.

_Chin up, that’s a girl._

Rhaegar had always said that to her when something went wrong. Daenerys repeated her brother’s words to herself, held her head up, and turned around to head back towards the party like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.


	16. Fools in Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it ya'll... the turning point of things for Daenerys and Jorah. Things aren't completely resolved but there will be a dramatic shift in the depth of their relationship from here on out and I hope you enjoy!

“Three weeks?” the disappointment on Sansa’s face was evident when Jorah told her about the tour and that he would be leaving before the week was out. He wanted to tell her that it was quite short for a Commonwealth Tour, that Prince Rhaegar had been on one that lasted three months, not three weeks, but he just stood there and let her work through her emotions. “You’ll forget about me by then, surely.”

Sansa fascinated him with how she could let her emotions peek through her confident, powerful façade for just a second before she reigned them back in. Her comment brought levity back into the conversation and within seconds she regained control of herself.

“I don’t think anyone could ever forget about you, Lady Sansa,” Jorah spoke what he knew was the truth, but he was also eager to end the conversation. He had texted the Princess a few minutes ago and she could be there at any moment, “But we should continue this conversation another time. I need to get back to work and you don’t need to be out of the spotlight any longer. Go and enjoy the party. _Your_ party.”

“Fine,” Sansa playfully pouted, “But one kiss first?”

Jorah sighed and gave her a small nod. It wasn’t that he didn’t want it, but kissing her would make things real between them, when part of him was holding out on an insane hope that he had a sliver of a chance with the Princess. Jaime and Rhaegar were wrong. They _had_ to be. She felt nothing for him and he was pushing away a beautiful woman who he _did_ have a chance with because of it.

_Right? Right_. He told himself all of this as Sansa stepped closer and brought her hand up to his cheek.

  _CRASH_

Jorah instantly turned away from Sansa, his senses on high alert. Nothing to his right, but what he saw when he pivoted the other way made his stomach drop.

Princess Daenerys was standing not more than three meters from them, a mixture of pure shock, embarrassment, and hurt on her face. She had dropped her champagne glass and the immediate crowd around her were staring, following her gaze to him and Sansa.

The party was too big for it to attract the attention of more than a dozen people, and a waiter was already grabbing towels to clean up the liquid and broken glass, but none of that mattered to Jorah. What mattered was that he had told her where to meet and she found him in Sansa’s arms, clearly not doing his job. He had never let himself become so unprofessional and as they locked eyes, he tried to convey how sorry he was.

The shock, he understood. But the hurt was harder. Was it Sansa? Was it him not being there for her? Surely, she wasn’t jealous…was she?

As quickly as she had dropped the glass, the Princess steadied herself, gave him and Sansa a brief nod, and turned around to walk away.

**~o0o~  
**

“Missy…Missy pick up…” Daenerys’ hand shook as she held her mobile to her ear. She was pacing by the women’s restroom, calling her friend over and over again with no luck. Straight to voicemail every time.

She needed her best friend. And then her thoughts went to Lyanna. She started to dial her number but then stopped, not wanting to bother her. She could tell she was in one of her melancholy moods when they had spoken earlier and she didn’t want to bore her with unnecessary drama. Lyanna had lost the love of her life. All Daenerys had witnessed was her crush about to get kissed by someone she didn’t like. That felt vastly different. 

But it didn’t make it any less painful for her.

As she paced, her hands still shaking, she went from hurt to angry, concentrating her jealousy and her insecurities into a new emotion, one that could protect her. One that wouldn’t make her seem weak and childish. The last thing she wanted Captain Mormont to see was her crying. She was a Princess. A Targaryen. And for all intents and purposes, _his boss._

She tried her best to channel that anger as she saw Jorah striding towards her. He was walking quickly, determined, his jaw set and his eyes apologetic. She sniffed back her emotion and put her mobile back in her clutch.

“Princess, can we talk?” Captain Mormont asked, his voice unsteady and he put his hand on her upper arm. As if physically hurt, she quickly pulled away on instinct.

“Don’t _ever_ presume to touch me.” Daenerys glared at him. “You are far too familiar. Maybe that is alright with some _others_ , but it seems you have forgotten that I am the Princess of England.”

Jorah clasped his hands in front of him, taking a military stance and lowering his head in reverence. “I apologize, your Grace.”

Daenerys hated that she had snapped at him and been so cold, but it was the only way she could avoid revealing her feelings for him. She had acted like they were strangers when they had built up such a good relationship in their short time together and now it was broken. She knew she was putting up a wall and had no doubt he would build one as well.

“If you could let me explain…” Jorah tried again and she shook her head.

“I want to go home.” Daenerys finished the conversation and began to walk outside, with Jorah on her heels.

“I only have the motorbike,” he implored her to stop, but she kept walking. There were a few people mingling outside, but the paparazzi had moved on, for which she was thankful.

“Then take me home on the motorbike. I don’t want to wait for the car.”

Knowing she wouldn’t bend, Jorah handed her the helmet and straddled the bike, keeping it steady for her as she carefully maneuvered her way on it behind him, hiking up her ball gown to do so.

“You’ll need to hold on, Princess.” Jorah reminded her when he started the bike, the loud motor reverberating in their ears and she felt it shake her entire body. Begrudgingly, she wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned against his strong back. In any other moment, she would have been thrilled to be so close to him, but right now it was like rubbing salt into a wound.

They took off into the night and Daenerys closed her eyes most of the time, feeling the wind blowing her hair around from out under the helmet. He didn’t drive like Daario. He was careful and smooth, but all she could think about was the smirk on Sansa Stark’s face staring back at her next to Jorah.

When they arrived back at the Kensington Palace apartments less than ten minutes later, Jorah offered his arm to help her off of the bike, but she refused it.

“Princess… let’s get you inside,” Jorah spoke softly. 

“No. We will talk here.” She said, smoothing the skirt of her ballgown as she stood in the courtyard with him. It was late and she didn’t want to wake anyone. And she wanted their conversation to be private. “How could you?”

Her words were loaded. To Jorah, they meant so many things and he wasn’t sure how to answer. She was clearly upset, and he didn’t know how to fix it. All he knew was that he hadn’t acted in any manner befitting the equerry to the Princess of England.

“I’m sorry, your Grace. I really am. I should have been doing my duty, not being a guest at the party,” Jorah offered the apology and he truly meant it. To think things could have been so much worse. What if instead of broken glass, it was a real emergency and he had been too busy thinking with what was in his pants to truly protect her. He saw her starting to shiver and he took off his suit jacket to give to her, but once more she refused his help.

“You had messaged me to meet you there. And I find you…” Daenerys couldn’t even finish her sentence, “Were you purposefully trying to make me look like a fool?”

Jorah’s eyes went wide, and he shook his head. He understood how it looked, as if he had set it up. “No…of course not…Princess, I would never…”

“Well you did. People will talk. They know you and the position you hold.” She tried to play it off as not wanting another scandal. Another story about her in the newspapers. But it was all a deflection. Her mind was screaming at her to just ask him about Sansa. She had to know. But if she told him…

“I didn’t mean to cause you any embarrassment, Princess. I am so very sorry for my lack of judgement,” Jorah kept on and she crossed her arms – her face unreadable. They stood, staring at one another for what seemed like an eternity, but only amounted to a moment. Both of their minds were spinning, trying to draw conclusions, but coming up short.

_I should tell her that Sansa means nothing to me. Not anymore…_

_If he knows I’m jealous, he’ll know I have feelings for him…_

_Why can’t I just be honest with her?_

_I’ve been a fool. I’ve made up something that was never there in the first place…_

Daenerys sighed. She needed to be the bigger person. “I may have overreacted, Captain Mormont. I do not care who you spend your time with, just so long as it is not while you are on duty. I was simply surprised to see you acting so…casually.” Instead of looking directly at him, she focused on a space just above his shoulder. It made it easier to lie. “If you would like some time off to be with Lady Sansa, you only have to ask. Grey asked me and I was more than happy to make arrangements.”

“I think you’ve misunderstood mine and Lady Sansa’s relationship.”

“I don’t think I’ve misunderstood anything at all. In fact, I’m surprised at myself for not realizing it earlier. She was only just telling me about her boyfriend, saying it was someone I knew.” Daenerys couldn’t hide the annoyance in her tone and her words came out sharp as knives.

Jorah’s eyes widened and he couldn’t think of how to explain everything with all evidence against him. He had no idea Sansa had been saying such things. “Princess, Lady Sansa is not my girlfriend. We are merely acquaintances.”

“Acquaintances who kiss?” She raised an eyebrow at him, “I don’t judge you, sir.” Another lie, she was _absolutely_ judging his taste in that vile woman, “As I said, your personal life while off duty is none of my concern. Let’s just keep work and pleasure separate?”

Jorah lowered his head. This was certainly not how he anticipated the evening going.

“Goodnight, Captain Mormont.” Daenerys said before walking away from him to go inside.

She walked along the dark hallway from the living room to her bedroom, as if in a trance. As soon as she reached her room and closed the door behind her, she started to cry. Never had she anticipated her feelings for him would cause this type of reaction within her. She had thought it was a crush, but clearly it was more than that.

As she stripped off her dress and looked in the mirror, she only felt worse. She was tiny and curvy – completely unlike Sansa and her statuesque figure. Was that what he wanted? What did he see in her?

She was pushy and snarky and pretentious. Is that what he preferred?

As she climbed into bed, Daenerys knew she shouldn’t waste her time comparing herself to another woman. Especially not Sansa Stark, who could very well be her sister-in-law one day.

_Imagine the holidays_ …she whispered to herself, laughing at the thought of her and Robb and Sansa and Jorah all celebrating together as if they were some big happy extended family.

She just hoped she would feel better in the light of a new day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	17. Beginnings and Endings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, an update -- I know! I hope you all enjoy. This chapter is wrapping things up before the tour. More to come soon!

Petyr Baelish sat at the small table besides the window in his suite within Buckingham, sipping his morning tea and reading the newspaper. He did this every morning around five before he needed to start attending the King, who was an early riser.

Today was no different, except that Sansa Stark was still fast asleep in his bed. She had called him late the night before asking to see him. He snuck her in through the tunnels of the palace, of which there is an extensive underground network. She was drunk and upset about something and he hadn’t pushed her about it at the time, just wanting to be inside of her.

But as he sat now, his tea growing cold, he came to an unpleasant realization. He didn’t have Sansa wrapped around his finger anymore. The way she had kissed and touched and fucked him the night before was different. She had clearly been thinking of someone else. And he knew exactly the man that was occupying her mind.

It hurt; he couldn’t deny that. He had once again been bested by _Jorah bloody Mormont._ Petyr sighed. Sansa was of no use to him in his schemes anymore. She had proved herself disposable, just as most people did sooner or later with him. Sure, he could still need her for Viserys, but he required a different tactic for Jorah. And the Princess.

Scrolling through his phone, he found the number he needed to call, left unnamed incase his phone was ever compromised.

Petyr thought he would always be loyal to King Aerys and the Targaryen dynasty because that was what had kept him so close to the top. But as he realized now, he could be loyal to the highest bidder and he was sure he could negotiate his current standing with the right people.

He stepped into the bathroom, closed the door, and ran the shower before dialing the number.

**~o0o~**

“Good morning, Princess,” Jorah greeted Daenerys as he stepped inside of her room for their daily meeting. He was surprised to find her up, sitting at the desk in her room, fully dressed. Normally she took every meeting in her pyjamas, which he found endearing, so this was certainly a change. 

“’Morning,” she replied without much feeling behind it. She avoided looking directly into his eyes, but she noticed he did look handsome in his suit and it hurt, bringing the rush of emotions from the night before flooding back to her. The formality of his greeting to her showed just how much they had back-slided in a few hours.

Jorah took a moment before he continued. He hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep the night before, too busy tossing and turning in his bed and replaying their argument in his mind. Sansa had texted him several times, but he had turned off his phone, wanting nothing to do with her any longer. He had taken things too far and crossed too many lines and now he was paying for it. He noticed that even though the Princess had makeup on, her eyes were puffy. He hated himself for hurting her.

“Your Grace, your date is set with Robb tonight and we will leave on the tour tomorrow. There will be pictures on the tarmac at Heathrow in the morning and we will arrive in South Africa in the evening. Gilly let me know she is almost done with your packing and I spoke with Prime Minister Lannister and he is willing to loan Missy to us as the Royal interpreter for the duration of the trip,” Jorah detailed and he hoped the news about her best friend would make her happy, but she didn’t betray any emotion.

“What will Robb and I be doing tonight?” Daenerys finally looked into Jorah’s blue eyes and the unspoken feeling behind them made her want to drop her aloofness and try and break down this miscommunication between them, but she was too proud and scared to do so.

“He wanted to keep it a surprise, your Grace,” Jorah lowered his eyes, uncomfortable. He could feel her looking at him and through him.

She sighed, “Will you no longer call me by my name as I have asked?”

“Only when I have been forgiven, your Grace,” Jorah ended the conversation, “I’ll let you finish your breakfast.”

Before she could say anything more, he walked out of her room, gently closing the door behind him, and headed back to his office to the pile of tasks and loose ends to tie up before the trip. Something he had been looking forward to was now something he was dreading, as it meant he would have to be near Daenerys and her disappointment in him for weeks on end. All because he couldn’t think with the head on his shoulders.

**~o0o~  
**

Daenerys helped Robb spread out the blanket on the grass, enjoying the boyish smile on his face as they worked to set up the picnic together later that evening.

He had gone for an entirely different approach from their first date and tried to make it more intimate and less pretentious, which she appreciated. Even though the picnic basket was the most expensive one that money could buy from Fortnum & Mason, the location was pedestrian – up on top of Primrose Hill with a beautiful twilight view of the city below. There were a few other picnicking couples who didn’t seem to notice them in their dressed down outfits of jeans and sweaters, and Grey kept an inconspicuous profile against the tree to their left.

“How are you?” Robb asked as they both sat down, and he began pulling out the food and the utensils from the basket. Daenerys hardly knew where to start – so much had happened since their first date and most of it she wouldn’t dare share with him.

It wouldn’t exactly be appropriate to tell the noble man courting her that she had a terrible, painful crush on a man who worked for her and that she was hurt because that man had kissed her date’s sister.

It was all too messy, so she decided to keep it light, “I’m alright. Nothing new, really.” 

“My sister said you left her party early last night,” Robb started in, not accusingly, but curious. She wanted to laugh – no matter how much she wanted to avoid it, she couldn’t.

“I’m leaving tomorrow, and I knew if I didn’t get some rest, that I would regret it,” she lied. Of course Sansa would notice and care that she had left, because it meant her _boyfriend_ had gone missing as well, “Are you heading back up North tomorrow?”

“Yeah…” Robb ran his hand through his auburn curls before working to uncork the wine, “Not much to do down here if you aren’t around. As a rule I try and avoid London, but you are making that rather difficult.”

“Don’t torture yourself for me,” she laughed.

“Trust me, it’s worth it. You are worth it,” he continued, pouring them each a glass of wine to go with their charcuterie, fruit, and cheeses. “For being a Princess, you don’t act like one”.

Daenerys munched on some grapes as she looked at him, looking like something straight out of a Burberry ad. He was cute, but she found herself comparing everything about him in her mind to Jorah. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that my sister acts like more of a Princess than you do – entitled, haughty, snobby…you are just, well, you. You are nice to everyone and don’t act like you are above anyone else. Rhaegar was like that. And I like that about you.”

Daenerys moved closer to Robb on the blanket as a little bit of a chill started to come in on a breeze. He put his arm around her, and it kept her warm as they ate their dinner and looked at the lights starting to come on in the city below them and the early evening joggers and their dogs move through the park.

“Will you miss me when I’m gone?” she asked.

“Yes, but I’m sure I will see you every day in the papers or on the internet. This is a big deal, you know. The last Commonwealth Tour was Viserys’ four years ago. Everyone loves them,” Robb reminded her. She had been trying to look at it as just a trip, but it really was so much more. It was a rite of passage for a royal and a chance to learn about different cultures and see the world and to find ways to give back. Her every move would be watched, she had been silly to forget.

“Well, then when I get home, we will need to do this again.” Daenerys told him, smiling up at him and giving him a small kiss on the lips. It did nothing to ease the ache and jealousy she still felt inside of her from the night before, but she didn’t have a choice. This relationship was practically written in the stars for them and she needed to go along with it. Clearly, she wasn’t meant to have a true love that she happened upon by herself. Robb could make her happy, she was sure, and it would make everyone else happy as well.

She only hoped that if she had to make a political match, then Sansa would need to as well. The only way Daenerys could find this all bearable was if the red-head ended up with her idiot brother.

**~o0o~**

Jorah found himself walking down the hallway to Sansa’s hotel room that evening after Robb and the Princess had left on their date. He had wanted to meet in a more neutral setting but knew that what he needed to say and her reaction to it would probably draw unwanted attention, so he had to settle for this.

It felt odd going back to the same place he had been a few days before under completely different circumstances, with Sansa surely thinking the outcome was going to be what she wanted this time.

When he had turned his phone back on after his morning meeting with the Princess, there was a flurry of worried texts from Sansa and he now realized why she had been going around referring to him as her boyfriend. She was certainly acting like he was. He had simply texted her to meet and he didn’t plan on staying long. He just wanted to break things off and leave.

Jorah shifted from one foot to the other, nervous, as he knocked on her hotel room door. He didn’t hear anything after a few moments and knocked again.

Finally, she opened the door and he saw the reason for her delay – she was wearing nothing except for a tiny pair of black knickers. He quickly stepped inside and closed the door behind him, trying his best to not look at her.

“ _Sansa_ …what are you doing?” Jorah asked, keeping his gaze locked on her eyes and nowhere else.

“Trying to finish what we’ve started or is that not obvious?” she purred and he let his head fall back, groaning in frustration. He just wanted to do the right thing and the universe was making it so extremely hard.

“Sansa, please, can you put some clothes on so we can talk?” he tried through a locked jaw and instead of listening to him, she just moved closer and put her hands on his chest. “Sansa…please…”

He didn’t move an inch, just stood there, not giving in to what she so badly desired, and what he could easily desire as well if he chose to give into the sadness that was consuming him. But he held fast until she conceded and walked away from him, moving towards her bed where her clothes were and slipping her dress back on. When she was decent, he moved further into the room and sat down on the chair across from where she was perched on the edge of the bed.

“Why don’t you want me?” Sansa asked sadly, “You left last night and ignored all of my texts…”

Jorah sighed. She was a beautiful girl and he recognized that she had feelings for him – strong ones – that transcending beyond the lust that he had previously felt for her. They were all trapped in this cruel comedy, none of their loves returned. Sansa wanted him, but he wanted the Princess, and God only knew who she wanted, if no one at all.

“There is nothing wrong with you, Sansa. I like you. I care about you. But this just isn’t going to work between us,” Jorah told her, trying to be as gentle as possible. This time, Sansa couldn’t keep up her cool façade.

“Why? Did the Princess forbid you? She was clearly pissed off last night…you are allowed to have a life outside of all of them, you know that, right?” Sansa looked at him and he couldn’t deny she had a point – it was just that he _wanted_ his life to be the Princess.

“She hasn’t ‘forbid’ me from anything. I should have been doing my job last night, not letting my personal life infringe on it. And I want you to know this has nothing to do with the Princess,” Jorah lied. It had _everything_ to do with her.

“Then what is it about?”

“There is history with our families, Sansa. History that you may not know about, and that I am not blaming you for, but it just cannot work for me. I’m sorry. I should have realized this sooner and not led things on,” Jorah apologized but he could see Sansa’s cheeks starting to flame the color of her hair.

He was not good with women, he was beginning to realize. Rhaegar had warned him before and tried to coach him on these things, but he was helpless.

“You’re a coward,” Sansa shot at him, “You’re afraid and you’re fickle and you made me look like an idiot.”

Jorah took her words, not denying them. She was right on all accounts. He had been selfish and wanted attention and led her on. He was a coward for not being honest in anything, especially this conversation. And he was afraid that he was setting himself up for loneliness. But yet he continued, “I’m sorry, Sansa. I really am.”

“Get the fuck out of my room.”


	18. Never Have I Ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy this one! If you aren't screaming at the end...well, then I don't know what to tell you!

Jorah sat on the front porch of the home the Princess and her staff were staying at in Cape Town, South Africa. They had arrived the night before and all of them had gone straight to bed to be prepared for the grueling schedule that was any Commonwealth Tour.

But Jorah always rose early, as did Jaime, ingrained in them from years of military training, and they sat with their coffee, looking out at the local guards doing patrols around the perimeter. Grey was out there as well, even though the local government insisted they had done everything for the safety and protection of the Princess.

It felt oddly freeing to be traveling with such a small group, just himself, Jaime, Grey, Missy, Gilly, and the Crown’s favored photographer, Gendry, to capture the trip for the Royal archives. Baelish had phoned him to check in, letting him know that Viserys was now in a rehab facility as all eyes were on Daenerys. But other than the occasional update, Jorah was running the show.

Love for the Princess, Jorah was quickly learning, was not limited to Britain. When they had arrived in Cape Town, there were thousands who turned out to greet and wave to her, lining the streets as they drove past, waving Union Jacks and wanting to capture a glimpse of her. She did her best to smile and wave to everyone, clearly astounded by the attention.

He checked his watch and Jaime stretched. He hoped Gilly had already gotten the Princess up otherwise they would be late for their first engagement.

Jorah went back inside the spacious house and to the Princess’ bedroom. Gilly was slipping out and told him she was ready. When he entered, he saw her dressed simply in a pale blue linen shift, her hair braided, looking out the large window at the landscape – so different from the city they were all used to.

“Princess...” Jorah knocked lightly on the door frame and she turned to look at him. He was thankful that this morning her eyes weren’t holding the anger from the previous days.

“It’s beautiful here.”

“It is.” Jorah kept his tone light. He could tell by the way she was shifting from one foot to another that there was something she needed to say.

“Can we talk?”

Jorah gently closed the door behind him and stepped further into her room, his hands clasped in front of him, waiting.

“The last time we spoke...”

“Princess...”

“ _Daenerys_ , please,” she said, taking a step closer to him and he couldn’t help but smile. He had thought their familiarity was shattered after their argument and was happy to know she wanted him to speak her name again, “I’ve been thinking about our last conversation. And I was much too harsh with you. I am truly sorry.”

Jorah was surprised at her apology – if anyone needed to apologize, it was him. “Thank you, Daenerys, but that’s not necessary. You could have said much worse and you would have been entitled to it, I promise you. I behaved poorly.”

“You are the only person I have out here who knows what I’m supposed to be doing. You’ve been on these tours with my brother and I need you to guide me. And I can’t do that if we are barely speaking,” Daenerys blushed. She wanted them to be on better terms. Since they had arrived last night, she felt overwhelmed. Missy nor Gilly had been able to calm her. It shocked her that beyond her growing crush on him, Jorah was the only person who was able to put her at ease in regard to her increasing responsibilities within the Royal Family.

“I have everything planned out, Daenerys. You just need to show up and be yourself. I’ll walk you through it all,” Jorah promised, “But we need to go...”

With a smile, she fell into step besides him as he led her out to the car and the duties of the tour officially began.

**~o0o~**

The first day of the Commonwealth Tour went by quickly, and as promised, Jorah was right by Daenerys’ side the entire time.

Their first stop was a meeting with South Africa’s President, Cyril Ramaphosa. He and the Princess had a formal introduction, followed by an exchange of gifts, a flurry of pictures, a private meeting where she learned more about the current state of the country, and then a luncheon.

Even though Jorah was there to whisper a name or reminder to her when she needed it, he was in awe of how she handled herself. She was always the epitome of grace and kindness in any room, but today she was humble and inquisitive and thoughtful with her questions. It made his heart swell with pride that this was his Princess, Britain’s Princess.

Their second stop was to an all girls’ primary school where the Princess would be giving a small speech and spending the afternoon. When they arrived, a few of the youngest girls rushed to her with small bouquets of flowers and hugged her legs. She crouched down to greet them, asking their names and letting them hold her hands and lead her to the crowd that had gathered around the front of the school.

Jorah held back, watching her as Gendry followed with his camera, catching perfect picture after picture of her laughing and enjoying her time with the young girls, excited that a Princess had chosen to visit them.

Daenerys met with the teachers and heard their stories, particularly moved when they let her know that the girls, who ranged from four to thirteen, didn’t always have access to the things they needed to keep focused on learning. Jorah could see the fire behind her eyes as she promised she would make it her priority to fix it. He knew she was going to find a dozen new projects over the course of the tour – she was drawn to people and they were drawn to her, and she was always eager to help. And he had no doubt she would make good on every promise.

There was a third stop planned but Jorah ended up having to move it as Daenerys insisted on staying at the school to sit in on some of the lessons, read to the younger girls, and talk to some of the older girls about their educations and how important they were.

Jorah felt like a sap for thinking it, but every time he watched her face light up or laugh at something one of the children said, he fell for her a little bit more. She was kind-hearted in the same way her brother was and the world needed more of that.

**~o0o~  
**

“To a successful first day of the Princesses’ first Commonwealth Tour...” Jaime Lannister raised his glass of champagne in a toast later that evening. The traveling party was standing in the kitchen of the house, glasses raised to their Princess, who was blushing at the attention.

“Cheers,” Missy echoed as they all clinked their glasses and took a drink.

“I couldn’t have done today without any of you, especially not without Captain Mormont,” she raised her glass to her equerry, who smirked, avoiding Jaime’s eyes.

“To Jorah,” Grey initiated another toast and another round of champagne was quickly and messily poured, emptying the bottle.

“Do we have anything else to drink?” Daenerys asked as they all sipped on their bubbly, leaning against the kitchen island and cabinets. It was nice, all of them being together, without their usual formalities, almost as if it were a group of friends hanging out one night after work and she didn’t want the celebratory mood to end.

“I have a bottle of whiskey and I’ll share, as long as we all promise not to overdo it. We are heading to Johannesburg tomorrow with another full itinerary,” Jaime warned, but in a tone that clearly conveyed he was very much planning on over-doing it, ducking out of the room for a moment to retrieve the bottle.

“I actually need to go and call my boyfriend,” Gilly said shyly, saying goodnight before leaving the room as well as Gendry, who noted that what happened after hours on the royal tour didn’t need to be documented. 

“Ah...I see we’ve already lost some,” Jaime sighed as he came back into the room, holding a handle of expensive Irish whiskey, “But that’s alright. I daresay the Princess has quite a bit of her brother in her – we used to do this all the time with him. So...glasses...”

Missy reached up into the cabinet and brought out five glasses and Jaime poured each of them a few fingers of the amber liquid, “So, what will it be? I think all of us could stand to get to know one another more.”

“Jaime,” Jorah shot him a look, reminding him that although it may seem like it, Daenerys wasn’t Rhaegar and they couldn’t get into trouble with him like they used to. She was a lady, a Princess, and although having a few drinks together could be nice, he didn’t want to make her feel obligated to do anything else.

“We should play a game,” Daenerys suggested as she sipped her whiskey. Now it was Missy’s turn to shoot her a look, “Oh...come on. Missy, you are my best friend. Grey, I have known you for years...and you two,” she looked between Jorah and Jaime, “Were nothing short of brothers to my brother. There is no reason we shouldn’t all feel comfortable around each other and enjoy our time together. What have I always said to you, Grey?”

“That you don’t like being treated differently because you are a Princess.” He answered and she nodded.

“Fair enough, what game would you like to play?” Jaime probed her and they all moved into the living room and sat down on the large sectional couch.

“Never have I ever...” Daenerys smiled a wicked smile, one that Jorah had never seen before and he immediately wanted to bow out as Gilly and Gendry had to take an early night and not chance what embarrassment this would lead to.

“Dany...” Missy groaned.

“We are all adults here. _I’ll start_ ,” she said, looking around the room. She was already almost finished with her first glass of whiskey, “Never have I ever ditched class.”

Everyone besides the Princess raised their glasses to their lips. Grey couldn’t argue with her...even when Missy ditched the occasional class at Uni, Daenerys was always punctual.

“Never have I ever finished an entire bottle of whiskey,” Grey said, keeping it light. Only Jorah and Jaime exchanged a knowing smile and drank.

“Never have I ever worked for the Royal Family,” Missy smiled and all of the men in the room drank.

“Never have I ever had a Lannister as a boss,” Jorah looked directly at Missy and she drank.

“Touché,” she conceded.

Jaime rubbed his hands together with a smile on his face, “Never have I ever kissed Missy.”

Grey took a drink and Missy blushed. It wasn’t a secret, their blossoming relationship, and Daenerys giggled. They made sense together and she was glad for it. It felt wonderful to see her friends happy.

“Hmm...never have I ever gone skinny-dipping,” Daenerys asked and looked around the room. No one had taken a drink, “Really? None of you?”

Jorah found he couldn’t look at her as the others made their cases for why they hadn’t done it, otherwise he was going to start picturing her naked.

“Never have I ever kissed a man,” Grey smirked. The girls had been getting off too easy and both Missy and Daenerys drank.

“Fine, never have I ever kissed a woman,” Missy continued, and all three men quickly drank. Another round was poured.

“Never have I ever had a one-night stand,” Jorah said, upping the intensity of the questions a bit as they quickly got more drunk. Jaime sighed and took a long gulp, as did Missy, a little embarrassed that she had, and Grey hadn’t. Daenerys ventured a look across the room at him, impressed and intrigued that he seemed to prefer a bit more commitment.

“Ah, see this is where the fun begins,” Jaime laughed, “Never have I ever had sex in public.”

“I’m surprised, mate,” Jorah said, taking a drink. Missy, Grey, and Daenerys did as well, and Jorah raised an eyebrow at her and she tried not to blush. The last thing she wanted to do was be forced to tell _that_ story.

“Never have I ever shot a gun,” she quickly asked to move things along. The usual suspects drank another gulp down.

“Never have I ever slept naked,” Grey shrugged and everyone else laughed and took a drink. “I get cold easily!”

“Never have I ever played strip poker...much to Jaime’s disappointment, I am sure,” Jorah laughed, and Jaime was the only one to take a drink, pointing around the room and calling them all out on their lack of adventure. Daenerys had already pressed her luck by suggesting they play this game – she couldn’t imagine being in a situation where Captain Mormont taking off his clothes was involved.

They were all tipsy, if not borderline drunk. The handle of whiskey was almost gone, and everyone was rosy-cheeked, relaxed, and giggling and it hadn’t taken very long to get them that way. Missy and Grey had inched closer to each other on their end of the couch, Jorah had taken off his jacket and loosened his tie, and Daenerys had taken her hair out of her braids and it was messily wavy and falling over her shoulders.

“Let’s see,” Jaime pretended to consider his question for a moment. Even less than sober, he knew damn well what he was doing, “Never have I ever thought someone in this very room was attractive. No offense.”

Missy and Grey looked at each other and took drinks and only Jaime noticed that both Jorah and the Princess had raised their glasses to their lips.


	19. Floating on Air

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!  
> Sorry for the long delay here -- I am back to writing after a few killer weeks at work and I've really missed you all! I hope you enjoy this chapter. I think we've all earned this one!

Jaime leaned back on the couch, watching the immediate flash of embarrassment pass over both the Princesses’ and Jorah’s faces that turned into a momentary spark of undeniable chemistry. It was plain as day as they looked at one another taking a drink and then looked away.

He wondered who was going to chicken out first. His money was on Jorah, but one never knew. He hoped, for his friends’ sake, that the alcohol would make him bolder.

There was a lull in the game as Grey and Missy had stopped to kiss after their drinks and now Daenerys awkwardly cleared her throat, causing them to separate. “Shall we continue?” she asked; it was her turn.

“Actually, I think we’ve all had enough. We can’t be completely off our game tomorrow,” Jorah interjected, and Jaime sighed. _Of course, it would be him_.

There was an awkward moment as Jorah and Jaime rose from the couch to head to their rooms and Grey moved to make a pot of coffee to try and sober himself up to do a few perimeter patrols. Jaime followed behind Jorah closely, not wanting to let him slip into his room and disappear without talking to him.

His friend tried to do just that, and Jaime stuck his hand out to stop the door from closing, wedging himself inside of Jorah’s room. Mormont glared at him, although the tips of his ears were still red from the drink and the moment that had just transpired between him and Daenerys.

Jaime closed the door and started to speak in what could only be classified as a whisper scream, “Go back out there and tell her how you feel _you absolute wanker_.”

“Piss off, Lannister,” Jorah sighed. They were both feeling the alcohol, having taken gulps of the amber liquid instead of the small sips Missy and Daenerys had taken during each round.

“I saw the look between the two of you...”

“You set me up, you know that.”

“You didn’t have to drink!”

“ _I forgot_...I forgot where I was and I forgot my place.” Jorah sighed. He sat down on the bed and looked up at his meddling friend.

“And so did she. That was proof, right there -- that she feels the same way about you.”

“It isn’t.”

“You think she has the hots for me?” Jaime laughed. If it was another woman, maybe, but the look on the Princess’ face was that of a woman who, if she had her way, would have ended her night alone in a dark room with Jorah. Of that, he was sure.

“I don’t see who else it could be,” Jorah said stubbornly.

“It’s _you._ You are bloody daft. This is your moment. Things are done with Sansa. There is minimal supervision out here....Grey and I sure as hell aren’t going to tell.”

“Jaime,” Jorah sighed, “This isn’t some romance movie where I can walk out there and be her knight in shining armor and think that telling her my feelings is going to cause us to live happily ever after. I’m not sober and she’s drunk. Oh, and I _work_ for her.”

“Details...details...” Jaime waved him off. “She wanted to play that game. She knew what could have come up, and she didn’t shy away from it. She’s not the one who bolted out of the room.”

“Even _if_ she feels anything for me, and that is a strong _if.”_ Jorah stated, looking at Jaime who rolled his eyes, “She’s not thinking clearly. Her and I could _never_ be together. She is all but betrothed to Robb Stark, her father would most likely make me leave Britain altogether, and it would only look bad on her. It would be seen as a scandal.”

“Excuses...”

“I’m too old for her...”

“Age means nothing anymore...” Jaime shook his head.

“I don’t have the right family name.”

“Who the fuck cares?” Jaime nearly growled in frustration. “I know chemistry when I see it. And the way she looked at you told me that you would be a fool if you didn’t take a chance on this.”

“I am supposed to be there for her. To guide her. To protect her and advise her and I can’t let my heart get in the way of that.” Jorah finished his argument with a stubborn finality and all Jaime could do was shrug.

“It’s what Rhaegar would have wanted. For you to be a real brother to him.” Jaime knew it was a low blow to bring up the Prince in such a way, but he needed to make Jorah see sense.

“Rhaegar wrote me a letter in the blinding heat of the desert whilst afraid for his life. A man could think anything under those conditions,” Jorah was sick of arguing with Jaime. He just wanted to go to bed and forget the entire night had ever happened.

“I’m not leaving until you go out there and talk to her.”

Annoyed, Jorah took one of the pillows off of his bed and threw it at his friend, “Then you are welcome to sleep on the floor.”

**~o0o~**

“Missy...we need to talk...” Daenerys said, looking from her best friend and then back towards the kitchen where Grey was making coffee.

“What’s wrong?” her friend asked, leaning back on the couch cushions, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol. It was instantly evident to Dany that Missy had not seen the look between herself and Jorah, which only served to make her more unsure of what had just happened.

The Princess lowered her voice, “When Jaime said, ‘Never have I ever been attracted to someone in this room’, Jorah drank...”

Missy raised an eyebrow.

“And I _also_ drank. And there’s only one other woman and it’s you...and I don’t think he likes men...” Daenerys started to ramble and Missy put her hands on her shoulders to steady the blonde who was trying to overthink the moment – grasping at anything to give her an answer other than what was right in front of her.

“Calm down, Dany...now it makes sense why he was so eager to end the game. I should have been paying more attention instead of snogging my boyfriend because... _oh, my, God_!” Missy’s eyes were wide with excitement. “Girl, _what the hell are you still sitting here for_?”

“What am I supposed to do?” Daenerys started to panic. Her heart was racing with all of the possibilities before her – none of which seemed like good ideas. She didn’t want to ignore it. She was falling for him and even if she brushed this off now, she would likely blunder again in near future.

She also didn’t want to address it. They were all drunk and what if he just wasn’t thinking clearly? It would so easily ruin a friendship they were in the midst of rebuilding.

“I mean, I know what _I_ would do...” Missy smirked suggestively, and Daenerys groaned in frustration.

“I...well, I think I have a boyfriend, don’t I?”

“Robb Stark, the wet blanket? Dany, come on...”

“Has everyone gone completely mad and forgotten that I am the Princess of England and currently third in line for the throne? I can’t have what I want. I can’t act like every other girl. I cannot have feelings for Jorah...”

“But you do.” Missy stated matter-of-factly, crossing her arms and looking over her worried, tipsy friend. “Life is messy. We don’t get to pick who we fall for and on top of that you have responsibilities that I know I can’t even pretend to understand. But life is also terribly short,” Missy looked down at her crossed legs on the couch, both of their minds going to the thought of her brother, “And I don’t want you to miss out on something good, okay?”

As usual, Daenerys was impressed at her friend for bringing things back into perspective and for grounding her. She reached out and squeezed Missy’s hand before getting up from the couch and heading towards Jorah’s room before she lost her nerve.

“Jorah?” Daenerys called out as she knocked lightly on his door. She heard a shuffle come from inside of the room and Jaime’s voice say something. The added company made her want to turn and run to her bedroom and chalk this up to a stupid whim of an idea, but before she knew it, the bedroom door opened and Jorah slipped outside into the hall, giving them some privacy.

“What is it, Princess?” he asked, his voice as soft as his eyes as he looked at her and recognized the nervousness etched on her face.

“The game...”

“Princess, I am terribly sorry, I let the alcohol...” Jorah immediately jumped in to apologize but she held up her small hand and placed it on his chest, causing him to stop mid-sentence.

“There’s nothing you need to apologize for,” she told him, stepping closer and looking up at him. They were only inches apart from one another when she whispered, “The game made me finally tell the truth about how I feel. And there’s no point in hiding it anymore.”

Jorah had to remind himself that this was real – that she was really standing before him with her hands on his pounding chest and saying everything he wanted to hear. The sincerity on her face only cemented the reality and he didn’t want to waste another second not showing her that he felt the same.

Gently, he reached out and stroked his thumb over her cheek, drawing it under the curve of her chin and tilting her face up towards him before bending down and pressing his lips against hers.

He took a moment to enjoy the softness of her lips against his before deepening the kiss. One arm wrapped around her waist to pull her closer and his other hand cradled her head as he tenderly parted her lips with his tongue and tasted her. The feeling of her body relaxing in his embrace and her mouth moving with his, eager for her own exploration, made him groan in pleasure – the sound of it low and sexy as it vibrated across their lips.

A mere kiss from her was intoxicating and if he spent another second like that, he knew his body would betray him. He didn’t want to seem too forward...yet.

He played with her silvery blonde locks as he ended the kiss, slowly pulling away and rubbing his nose against hers on the way to kiss her forehead, “Thank you for the goodnight kiss, Princess.”

The blush across her cheeks that matched the pink of her just-kissed lips was stunning and he couldn’t stop staring at her, feeling humbled by what had just transpired between them.

“Goodnight, Jorah. I’ll see you in the morning.” Daenerys told him, smiling as she turned to walk back down the hallway, feeling as if she was floating on air.


	20. Falling in Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Thank you for bearing with my extended absence from this story! I've tried to make it up to you with an extra long chapter and a lot of fluff! Happy New Year!

“You sly dog,” Jaime smirked as he walked into the shared bathroom that separated his and Jorah’s bedrooms in the house the next morning. Jorah was standing at the right double-sink in his dress pants and undershirt, shaving, and a smile tugged at his lips.

“It was just a kiss...”

“It’s more than a kiss. It’s the beginning of you and the Princess,” Jaime set down his towel and ran his razor under the tap, “and I couldn’t be happier.”

Jorah’s inkling of a smile turned into a frown. “Don’t congratulate me as if I just proposed. It was a kiss and it isn’t going to go any further. I can’t let it.”

Jamie started to lather his face with shaving cream. “When are you going to stop feeling sorry for yourself and realize you are worthy of being happy? I know Lynesse fucked a lot of things up, but...”

“I _am_ happy, Jaime. Last night was the happiest I have been in so long,” Jorah cut off his friend, not wanting to think about anything having to do with _her_ , “But I have to be reasonable...”

“You can be reasonable in three weeks when this tour is said and done, and even then, I will fight you on it,” Jaime’s tone turned serious as he brought his razor to his cheek and Jorah didn’t press him on it. Jorah patted his now clean-shaven face dry and left the bathroom to put on his outfit for the day. The morning activities were of the casual variety, so he went with khaki slacks in a lighter fabric, a white button-down and a navy sport-coat. He was well-versed on the cultures and customs of each place they were visiting on the tour and it wasn’t wise to overly flaunt the Crown’s wealth by dressing too stiffly in many of them, except for during balls and dinners.

He turned to the mirror to fix his collar and was surprised at the face looking back at him. He looked as happy as he felt and knew it had everything to do with Daenerys. He had slept better than he had in weeks after their kiss and woke up thinking it had all been a dream. He would have been contented if it was, but it was _real_. Despite his penchant for thinking up every worst-case-scenario regarding a relationship with her, warmth still blossomed in his heart and he let himself think about the good ‘what-ifs’ for a few quiet moments before he went to get his morning coffee.

**~o0o~**

“You are up early, Princess. Did you not sleep well?” Gilly asked after coming into Daenerys’ bedroom. She was sitting at the window seat with the curtains open, watching the sunrise. Regardless of travel schedules, Gilly, Jorah, and Grey were always up at the crack of dawn to prep for the day, but the Princess liked her sleep.

“Actually, I slept really well,” Daenerys turned to Gilly with a smile.

“Good. I just came in to bring you some towels, but I’ll get breakfast started for you too.” Gilly set the fluffy, warm towels on the wood bench outside of the bathroom. “You seem really happy and that makes me happy.”

Daenerys laughed a little at the sweetness of Gilly. She was the purest they came and the Princess could tell that it was more than just her own happiness putting a smile on the brunette’s face, “Is there any other reason why you are so happy this morning?”

“My boyfriend, Sam, is coming to visit after we get back from the tour!” Gilly’s eyes went wide with glee as she confided in Daenerys, “It’s been so long since I’ve seen him.”

“He’s more than welcome to stay at Kensington – you let him know that, won’t you? I’m looking forward to meeting him.”

“Thank you, your Grace. I’ll go and get your breakfast...” Gilly blushed and nodded, heading for the door.

“Oh, and Gilly – I know it’s early, but could you send Captain Mormont in?”

“Right away, Princess.” Gilly promised and closed the door behind her.

Daenerys sighed contentedly as she looked out at the large, empty field surrounding their temporary lodgings. Today they would pack up and move on to Johannesburg and keep repeating the process nearly every day. She had been warned that it would be a grueling and difficult schedule to keep, but after yesterday, no task seemed impossible.

She had been so nervous for her first official royal duties without her father or either brother present. Usually she was in the background, a supporting character – not talking beyond polite conversation and cordial hellos and goodbyes. But now, all eyes were on her. She was shaking the hands of dignitaries and having tough conversations about economics and poverty and education. And Jorah had deftly guided her through it all. She couldn’t have done it without him and after their kiss, which left her restless all night in the best way, she didn’t want to do any of this without him. Her crush on him was so much deeper than she realized. When their lips met, it was more intense than it every had been with Drogo and a million times more exciting than her kisses with Daario or Rob. It wasn’t a convenient truth to admit, but she didn’t plan on being convenient anymore – _to anyone_. She liked this independence. It wasn’t the independence of her university days with Missy. _It was better_.

**~o0o~**

“Captain Mormont?”

Jorah looked up from watching the sun rise over the flat landscape from the porch with Jaime and lowered his mug from his lips after taking a sip of coffee, “Yes, Gilly?”

“The Princess is up and would like to see you.”

He checked his watch. It was only half-past six. She was _never_ up that early and his brow furrowed with nerves.

“Thank you. I’ll be right there.” He stood and Jaime gave him a reassuring look that did nothing to calm him as he walked through the house to her bedroom. He knocked once and let himself in, softly closing the door behind him and looking around for her. He found her curled up with her arms around her knees as she sat in the window seat, taking in the same sunrise he had been. When her head turned and she smiled at him, his worry melted away.

“Hi...” she whispered.

“Good morning, Daenerys.” He answered her; his voice just as soft. They both took a moment to look at one another in the light of day, so different than the dark hallway they had kissed in the night before.

She stretched out her legs and swung them over the edge of the window seat to stand. She was wearing light blue silk pajamas, a contrast to the flannels she wore back in London, and he thought she looked every inch of an angel as she walked towards him.

“I think I really like you,” she said as she looked up at him, stopping when her bare toes touching the tips of his brown oxfords.

He raised an eyebrow, “You think?”

“I _know_ I really like you,” she bit her lip, her eyes moving to his mouth and lingering there, “That kiss...”

“That kiss was certainly not something I expected when I started my service to you just a few weeks ago,” Jorah studied her face – the violet in her eyes bright this morning, her skin creamy, and her lips drawing him in, “But it’s been my favorite moment of the job”.

Daenerys let out the breath she was holding in waiting for his response and Jorah let out his own sigh of relief that he had told her the truth instead of making an excuse for why they couldn’t do it again. Jaime’s was right – he could figure that all out later.

He couldn’t bother to think anymore when she raised herself up on her toes to kiss him and this time, the kiss wasn’t so chaste. Jorah wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tightly to him, gently nipping at her bottom lip to open for him to explore her mouth and he adored the taste of her. One of his hands moved from her waist to run up her back and into her hair, keeping her close as he drank her in, and she held onto him – nether one wanting the moment to end.

A knock on the door startled both of them and they jumped apart – Daenerys nearly stumbling backwards towards the bed where she tried to arrange herself as if everything was normal as Gilly walked in with a tray of breakfast, none the wiser to what had just transpired.

“I brought you a muffin, Captain Mormont, in case you wanted to eat during your meeting,” Gilly said as she uncovered the plates and put three lumps of sugar in Daenerys’ tea – just how she liked it. As she worked, the Princess and her equerry exchanged blushing smiles across the room from one another.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Gilly,” he cleared his throat and thanked the maid, who seemed chuffed at her decision and was soon gone again, leaving them alone. Daenerys broke out in a giggle.

“You nearly pushed me into the wall! You are a strong one, Daenerys,” Jorah smirked.

“I was nervous!”

“Clearly...” his eyes softened as he walked back over to her and grabbed the muffin Gilly brought for him off of the tray, “But you shouldn’t be. I understand if you want to keep this a complete secret, but I do have to warn you that Captain Lannister knows.”

Daenerys took a sip of her tea, “He does?”

“He was in my room last night when you kissed me...he put two and two together.”

‘Of course. I know he won’t say anything...and there is someone I’d like to tell too,” Daenerys was already eagerly anticipating what Missy would say, “I know we can keep this a secret here...but back home...”

Jorah moved to sit down on the bed next to her, “Daenerys, I don’t have the slightest idea what the right way to do this is or what to do when the Tour is over, but we can figure it out. We will take it slow”.

“I don’t want to take it slow...” she looked at him with a mischievous glint in her eye that threatened to undo him right then and there.

“Daenerys, you are the Crown Princess of England... _we are taking things slow_...” he reiterated. He didn’t want to rush into this and mess things up. They had only kissed twice and even though he felt as if there was something wholly special about the connection they were building, he still barely knew her. “Now...let’s talk about today.”

**~o0o~**

After Jorah had explained her schedule for the day, Daenerys knew it would be busy, but she found herself ill-prepared for the chaos of it all and knew it wouldn’t get any easier.

As she shook hand after hand of guests at the morning reception in the Tembisa Township in Johannesburg, she was humbled by their kind words and their excitement for her to be there. She looked back towards Jorah, quietly standing in the background with Grey and tried to convey all of the emotions she is feeling simultaneously. He tipped his head forward and his eyes encouraged her to keep at it. She took a deep breath and turned back to the line of people waiting.

Captain Lannister, Missy, and Gilly had packed up the luggage and were spending the day getting things settled in at their next residence and Gendry seemed to always be close by, snapping candids of her along with the more formal group pictures. Once introductions and pictures were finished, Daenerys made a short speech celebrating the townships’ rich history before moving into the breakfast reception.

The day moved on like that – from the Tembisa Township to Victoria Yards, a marketplace of artists and makers and creatives that she was thrilled to meet, and then to the British High Commissioner’s residence. Daenerys was moved by the sympathetic words about the loss of Rhaegar and the interesting stories from the people she met. There was always someone wanting her attention and she felt disoriented and spun around every which-way. The only thing that kept her going was the quiet strength of Jorah and the happiness she felt surrounding their early morning together – and the moments after when she was able to tell her best friend that she had been right – that life was too short to not be happy and she was taking her chance to be happy with _him._

“You are doing beautifully. Your brother would be proud,” Jorah bent his head to whisper encouragement to Daenerys before she took a private audience with Nelson Mandela’s widow, Graca Machel. He had been in awe of her all day, rushing from place to place, her never once wanting to cut a conversation short with anyone, and her ability to listen and learn about a place she had never been to and the people she was connected to through the Commonwealth but knew next to nothing about. Rhaegar had always been charming, funny, and gracious, but he thought Daenerys made everything look easy. She was everything her brother was and more, “And _I’m_ proud of you.”

**~o0o~**

“Gilly, how does the chicken look?” Missy called back to the kitchen of their home for the night in Johannesburg. There was a pause and then a happy exclamation. “It’s good! A few more minutes!”

After Missy learned that Daenerys had kissed Jorah the night before and a little more this morning, she, Captain Lannister, and Gilly (who they let in on the news) decided that they wouldn’t be the best friends they could if they didn’t try and help their budding relationship along. After settling into the new place, the three of them went about turning the sun room in the back of the house into a romantic hideaway. The Tour and the confines of royal lodgings were as close to alone as Jorah and Daenerys were going to be able to get.

Gilly started preparing a dinner for them for when they returned from the days’ duties and Jaime and Missy procured lots of candles and arranged a small table for dinner in the room.

“Grey just texted that they are on their way back...should only be fifteen or so,” Jaime walked into the sunroom carrying silverware and dishes. Missy was busy lighting the dozens of candles.

“Perfect,” she replied, straining to reach some of the candles on a higher shelf. Jaime took the lighter from her to help.

“We might actually burn this house down with all of these...” he laughed.

“Worth it if it makes the two of them happy.” Missy placed her hands on her hips as she looked around the room to admire their handiwork. It wasn’t much, but it could pass as their first official date. Neither of them knew what would come from their blossoming romance and both ignored the obstacles they would surely face once back on British soil. But what they did know was that Jorah and Daenerys were falling in love in the same way Missy and Grey had fallen for one another and Jaime was falling for his girl back home, Brienne.

“They’re here!”

Both of them walked out of the sun room when they heard Gilly’s call from the front of the house and heard two cars pull up on the dirt driveway outside – one carrying the Princess, Captain Mormont, Gendry and Grey and the other full of the hired security for the grounds.

“Welcome back, how was today?” Jaime asked, over-eagerly as everyone stepped inside. The Princess looked especially drained, even if there was a smile on her face.

“All went well.” Grey answered, looking to Missy, aware of the plan that had been concocted while they were gone.

“Great, Daenerys and Captain Mormont, can you come with me?” Missy asked. She and Jaime were hovering over them in the entryway and it was clear their behavior was odd.

“I think the Princess might like to rest a while before dinner,” Jorah chimed in and Missy looked to Jaime for help.

“I think the two of you want to see this...” he reiterated and convinced the pair of them to follow him and Missy down the hallway to the very back of the house. He opened the door and ushered them inside to the candlelit room and table, “We’ve been a bit busy, as you can see. Gilly’s just finishing dinner for you”.

Daenerys stepped into the room, looking around before turning to her friends and Jorah and smiling. It was clear this was meant to be a space for a little date, and she hugged Missy gratefully, “This is incredible...but what will you be doing?”

“Spending the night in the living room watching a movie very, _very_ loudly so that we don’t hear anything that goes on back here.” Jamie smirked and the tips of Jorah’s ears turned red, “Now go on...get to know each other better.”

Jaime patted Jorah on the back when Gilly came into the room, a big smile on her face as she set down two plates of roasted chicken down for them and uncorked a bottle of champagne. It wasn’t long before Jorah and Daenerys were fully alone with just the candlelight and the orange luminosity from the sun setting outside. Jorah pulled out her chair for her and then sat down across from her. He suddenly felt very nervous looking at the gorgeous woman across from him – the one he had watched shine all day and who was now glowing brighter than any of the candles surrounding them.

“Tell me one thing about you that I don’t know,” Jorah asked her, suddenly. He wanted to learn so much about her and even though they had a private audience with one another every morning, this was different. He wasn’t her equerry here – he was just a man.

Daenerys took a sip of her champagne, “Well, I had three cats when I was much younger. They were all wild and lived on the grounds of the palace. I found them, one by one, and snuck food from the kitchens to feed them until they trusted me. I named the first one, a white one, after my brother and called him Rhaegal. He was pretty well-behaved. Then I found Viserys, named after my brother. He was a tabby and he had quite the naughty side. The third was a large, fluffy cat that I named Drogon. He looked like an angry dragon and I loved him the most. I finally smuggled them up to my room and _of course_ they tore up all of the furniture and the drapes and made a complete mess. When my maid found them, she was furious and so was my father. But my mother worked her magic and I was able to keep them. I had them until after she died, but when I went to university, I found out that my father got rid of them. I called every shelter around but never did find them,” Daenerys recounted the story, giving him an apologetic smile that her tale had turned a bit dark. She hadn’t told many people about what her father did, but she held onto that in her heart of hearts, still upset.

Jorah reached across the table and held her hand, “We can get cats for Kensington. You just have to say the word...”

“Maybe,” Daenerys nodded, thinking about it and she squeezed his hand before pulling it away to cut into her chicken. “Now, it’s your turn...”

Jorah thought about all of the stories he could tell her – the secrets he could unearth for her and the parts of him he could bring into the light of day. He wanted to tell her _everything_ , but his mind pushed him towards a singular thought, “Princess, I don’t just like you. I don’t just want to see where this goes. After today, I can say, surer than I have ever been, that I am falling in love with you.”

 


	21. Slowing Down

_“Princess, I don’t just like you. I don’t just want to see where this goes. After today, I can say, surer than I have ever been, that I am falling in love with you.”_

Daenerys’ violet-specked eyes went wide as Jorah laid his feelings out for her. The word ‘love’ had been on the tip of her tongue that morning when she had told him she _liked_ him. She had hesitated – not wanting to seem overly attached after just one kiss. And she wasn’t sure if she really knew what love was, having experienced very few relationships.

All she knew was that her feelings for Jorah were _strong._ She felt safe with him. She felt special and worthy and _seen._ And, perhaps most importantly, she felt like a woman, separate from her royal title and everything that came along with it. She felt free.

“You don’t have to say anything to that. I know we’ve only just met, and I work for you and that all of this is completely unexpected and unconventional. But I would be remiss if I wasn’t honest with you about my feelings. Life is frighteningly short. I didn’t get a chance to tell your brother – out loud – what he meant to me before he died. He was a brother to me. I know he knew it, but the most important feelings bear repeating.” Jorah looked down at the plate of food in front of him and cut into the chicken, trying to seem casual and not expectant that she echo his thoughts, even though his heart was racing.

“I don’t plan on dying anytime soon...” Daenerys said, trying to bring levity into the conversation.

“Grey, Jaime and I will make damn sure of that...” he briefly met her gaze and then turned back to his dinner, almost sullenly.

“Jorah...” Daenerys set her fork and knife down, worried at his change in demeaner and frustrated that she hadn’t been able to gather her thoughts quickly enough to reply the way she wanted to – so that he wouldn’t have taken her silence the wrong way - “I’m falling in love with you too. And you are right – we barely know each other and maybe I don’t even know what being in love really feels like. But the way I feel for you is... _different._ And I’ve felt this growing in my heart for weeks and when I saw you and Sansa...I...”

Pain flashed across Jorah’s face, “Daenerys, I’m so sorry. If I’m being truly honest, I went along with Sansa’s overtures because I felt completely undeserving of you.”

“Jorah, please...I’m not angry, I just was so jealous, and it all makes so much more sense now. I thought it was a little crush, but it’s so much more than that.” She blushed and he broke into a genuine smile.

“Well, then we are both falling in love. It’s been so long for me – it feels incredible to feel this way again.”

“Was the last time with your ex-wife?” Daenerys asked. She had always wanted to know more about his past and she figured that now was as good a time as any to inquire.

“This feels different than with her, but, yes.”

“Why did it end?”

Jorah took a long sip from his champagne glass, “I think Lynesse had always been looking for a way out from the start. We ran in similar social circles when we were younger, even though my family doesn’t have quite as strong of a noble background as hers. But I was what she pictured for herself – a military man. Then it became about how I was always gone and she was lonely and when I took the job with MI6 and left the service, she became deeply unhappy. Working for Rheagar was the last nail in the coffin for  her – I _embarrassed_ her. Regardless that I worked for the royal family, she told me I was nothing more than a mere errand boy. I had been convinced it was my fault – that I let work come first and hadn’t strived hard enough for a meaningful career and that I wasn’t an attentive husband – but the truth is that my status changed and I didn’t have time or the desire to help her host garden parties or spend time schmoozing the British elite. She claimed I had been cheating on her, turned my friends and my own father against me, and hired the best divorce lawyer in London, who made a case out of nothing, and she now cleans me out every month in alimony.” He chuckled sadly, “I apologize – you most likely wanted the abridged version of that.”

“I’m sorry. _I’m so, so sorry_.” Daenerys whispered, “She’s so wrong. I can’t see you being anything but loyal and being an equerry is the highest position in the royal household – you are trusted beyond measure – I want you to know how incredible you are and how...how _terrible_ she is.”

Jorah tilted his head just slightly, looking over at her with emotion in his eyes that she was sure he hadn’t let surface in a very long time.

“Thank you. Truly. Your brother helped me through that time. One of the hardest times of my life, actually. Your family trusted me and kept me on when she deliberately tried to sully my family name and reputation. I’ll always be grateful for that. And now I’ll be grateful that I took that job with your brother and didn’t waste time trying to win her back – because it led me to you.”

Daenerys pushed herself away from the small table and rushed to kiss him, bent over him with his head in her hands and her hair falling in a silvery curtain around them. She was overcome with anger at his ex for daring to treat him so badly and a burning desire to show him how much he meant to her already. With a light tug on the lapels of his suit jacket, he rose from the table as well, both of them forgetting their dinner.

They stumbled around the sunroom, intoxicated with one another. Her kisses were needy, and his hands ventured up her back and around to her side, right underneath her breasts. It was clear what she wanted as she started to unbutton his shirt and he couldn’t hide how he felt either – with the bulge in his pants pressed against her stomach. It was agonizing for him to try and regain control of the situation and break away – a frustrated moan escaping his lips.

“Daenerys...” he fought to catch his breath as he looked into her eyes, which were dark and half-hooded, “We should slow down.”

“Why?” She continued with her unbuttoning, her fingers nearly at the hem of his shirt. There was more beyond the ‘why’. _‘Why not? ‘Why wait?’_ They had the tour and likely nothing more and she clearly didn’t want to waste any more time. He understood that.

“Because I want to do this properly.” He gently rubbed her shoulders, “And it kills me to stop...” he darted his eyes down to the space between him and the evidence of his want there for the both of them to see, “But you deserve everything – and I want to give that to you...”

She smirked, pulling him closer, “You _can_ give it to me...”

The look on her face made him flush – he had seen many sides of his Princess, but this was a new one, “Soon – I promise you. Let’s just have a proper date that wasn’t put together by our well-meaning friends first?”

Daenerys acquiesced with a nod, “But can I still kiss you?”

“Oh, I never said we should stop that...”

**~o0o~**

“These aren’t her...” Robb frowned as he looked at the jewels laid out on black velvet before him. He was sitting in Petyr Baelish’s office and had been for the last hour, trying to decide on an engagement ring for Daenerys.

In the past few days, so many crucial parts of Petyr’s larger plan had fallen perfectly into place, and to top it off, he had managed to convince Ned Stark to talk to his eldest son about proposing to the Princess the second she returned back from the tour.

The plan was for Robb to be in Scotland with her brother and father upon her return and use the circumstances, crowd, and guarantee of paparazzi to create a proposal that would be seen around the world. With Viserys in Rehab and his relationship with Sansa still nonexistent, this was the next best thing Petyr could concoct.

Petyr found it almost too easy to get Robb on board as well. Even after only being on two dates with the Princess, he was very clearly mad for her and eager to please his parents. Petyr had asked for any Stark heirloom rings to be brought with Robb for inspection, but all of them were quickly deemed too Northern in style and certainly not big enough.

So, Baelish had been prepared with alternatives – dozens and dozens of royal heirlooms and some more contemporary choices by the best jewelers in London.

“How would you know?” Petyr sighed, watching the boy tentatively pick up a four-carat emerald ring surrounded by diamonds.

“I feel like she would want something delicate. She’s kind and not flashy like her brother – and all of these are the exact opposite.”

“Delicate doesn’t show up in photographs,” Petyr rolled his eyes. The boy really was thick. “Just pick one...”

“But it should mean something. Shouldn’t it? I should see it and know...” Robb’s eyebrows knit together as he picked up another ring – a huge ruby surrounded by two intricately carved gold dragons, once worn by Daenerys’ great-great-grandmother. He found it gaudy and set it back down.

“Just. Pick. One.” Petyr reiterated and then decided to soften his tone – he needed this to work, “Whichever one you pick, she will love because it is from you.”

He couldn’t believe that line of shite had come out of his mouth, but it seemed to put Robb at ease, who went back to diligently inspecting his options. Fifteen minutes later, he had chosen a five-carat oval cut flawless diamond on a simple, white gold band. It was one of the modern rings, designed by Harry Winston, and Robb seemed pleased enough with it.

“Well done. We’ll keep it here and have it ready for you when the day comes. We’ll speak soon,” Petyr promised Robb, who saw himself out with a smile on his face as the rest of the jewels were collected to go back to the royal vaults. Petyr snapped a quick picture on his mobile of Robb’s choice and leaned back in his chair, smirking to himself.

**~o0o~**

The next morning, Jorah took part in his usual routine with Captain Lannister of sitting outside and watching the sun rise. They had no time to get attached to their temporary dwellings, as that day they would be moving on to their next stop – Angola – but it was still nice to capture a few quiet moments.

He sipped his coffee and smiled as he thought back to the night before. Despite promising to take things slow, he and Daenerys had made out like teenagers for the better part of an hour, letting their food grow cold and forgotten. He ended the night by walking her to her bedroom, giving her a final ‘goodnight’ kiss, and then ventured to the living room to see Gilly and Missy asleep on the couch as Jaime and Grey watched an action move. He and his friends shared a knowing look and Jorah gave them both a small nod of appreciation.

His morning had only been made better by getting a text message from his niece, Lyanna.

 **Jorah:** Since when did your mother let you get a mobile – and why are you up so early?

 **Lyanna:** Mom says I can’t text during school – so it has to be early. How is the tour?

 **Jorah:** Good. Does you texting me mean you aren’t mad at me anymore?

 **Lyanna:** No. Still mad. You left without saying goodbye.

Jorah winced, thinking back to the night a few weeks ago that he had cut his trip home short to make sure the Princess was safe. He would have made the same choice again, he just wished he hadn’t hurt Lyanna in the process.

 **Jorah:** I’m sorry. I will be back after the Tour is over. We end in Scotland and I’m taking a few days to come see you.

 **Lyanna:** If that’s true then I think I can forgive you...

 **Jorah:** And I’m bringing my girlfriend with me. I want you to meet her.

Jorah knew it was wishful thinking on his end that he could sustain a relationship with the Princess and take her to Bear Island to meet his family, but he knew it would make Lyanna happy to hear and it made him happy to think about – so he indulged himself.

 **Lyanna:** YAY! Gtg – see you soon!

Jorah smiled as he looked over at his friend, who was on his phone as well with a sappy look on his face – clearly texting Brienne. All felt right, made even better with the incredible display of nature in front of him as the molten sun came up over the horizon.

His phone buzzed again, and he eagerly unlocked it, wondering if Lyanna had something else to say. Instead, a photo popped up on his screen of an enormous diamond ring in a black box.

Then a message from Petyr Baelish that made Jorah’s heart sink.

 **Petyr:** Make sure the Princesses’ nails are done before you arrive in Scotland. More soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh - oh - the plot thickens! Nothing is ever easy for these two! I hope you all enjoyed!


	22. Elation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that those of you who have stuck with this story from the very beginning - who have weathered the slow-burn and all of the trials and tribulations Jorah and his Princess have gone through (and - let's face it - will still go through) will enjoy this chapter. The moment is finally, finally here!
> 
> And if you are still reading - thank you and I love you!

Jorah knew he should be paying attention in case his Princess needed him – but his mind kept wandering off. He stood off to the side and tried his best to re-focus on Daenerys, who was fielding questions about what it was like to be a Princess from 12-year-olds in a classroom in Angola. Missandei was helpfully translating back and forth in Portuguese.

“What is your favorite part about being a Princess?”

“I like that I am able to travel and meet all of you – to learn more about you. And something I would really like to learn is what you want to be when you grow up?” Daenerys asked the younger girl and she smiled at the attention. Jorah beamed. She wasn’t throwing out a charitable line simply because she was being filmed. She was really engaging with the students and his mind couldn’t help but associate her kindness and ease with them to what she would be like as a mother one day.

“I want to be a Princess, like you...”

“I promise you that being a Princess is not all that exciting. You have the world at your fingertips...” Daenerys prompted her, and the other students were squirming in their seats for a chance to answer the question as well.

“A nurse!” the girl finally replied, and Daenerys nodded and smiled, motioning for others to answer.

“An astronaut!”

“I want to cure cancer...”

“A veterinarian!”

Jorah thought that for a moment he saw sadness in the Princesses’ eyes as Missandei repeated all of the dreams of the students before her. The school they were visiting was in serious need of more funding and although the students were bright and talented, some were at a disadvantage and they all knew it. So far on the Tour, Daenerys had kept a detailed journal of every place they visited, every promise she made, and everything she intended to do to help. He knew she would make good on every word of it – even if it meant giving away her sizable Royal allowance to make the donations necessary.

As the students kept on with their questions, Jorah retreated back into the mess of thoughts that had been plaguing him for days as they continued the Tour.

He hadn’t said a word about the ring or Petyr’s text to anyone. He desperately wanted to tell Jaime but couldn’t bring himself to admit out loud that he and Daenerys couldn’t realistically work. They had two more weeks – precious time he wanted to spend being himself with her, instead of worrying about the inevitable.

Another part of him fantasized about everything actually working out. He had even made a mental game plan in case of the unlikely event that it did. They would return from the Tour and Jorah would hand in his resignation to King Aerys and ask that Jaime take his place. He would lay it out for anyone that asked – Aerys, Petyr, his family, the British people – that he loved her more than anything or anyone else every could and intended to be by her side, protect her, and support her for the rest of his life.

Jorah lowered his head at the seriousness of his thoughts– _for the rest of his life._

He was too _far_ gone for her. The last few days had been a dream after their makeshift ‘date’. They spent every morning and every night in her room, talking and kissing – sometimes more of the latter. The more he got to know her, the more he thought back to the note that Rhaegar left him. They were so similar and yet so different. She challenged him and he tempered her. She brought out his playfulness and he gave her a space to be vulnerable. How Rhaegar knew this was remarkable – or maybe it was all just luck. He couldn’t care less – just that he was lucky enough to know her.

But Jorah’s life had had its twists and turns, and he couldn’t help but think it had all worked out that way for _her._

And things were moving fast between them – not only emotionally, but physically as well. Just that morning, Daenerys had tried to coax him into going further with her by climbing on top of him and pushing him down on her bed. And _oh Gods_ her hands felt so good sliding underneath his shirt and it had taken all of his willpower to move them from unbuttoning his slacks. She had sulked in disappointment and he ached to tell her how hard it was for him to stop. He wanted her _just_ as badly.

Jorah had told her many times that he wanted to take it slow. That _that_ would have to wait until after their first proper date together.

But now, it was more than just doing things right and trying to show her the respect and care she deserved. She was going to be engaged to another man – and Jorah felt guilty about that.

Daenerys’ feelings for him were strong – he knew that. But when it came down to it, despite their incredible connection – would she turn against her family and the expectations of her country for him? When she could so easily live a decent life with Robb and do her duty?

It hurt too much to consider and he forced himself once again back into the present, to look at the woman his heart now belonged to, still absorbed with the students, laughing with them, and looking like an angel with her moon-kissed hair and white sundress.

It was an image he would keep in his heart forever, no matter how things worked out.

**~o0o~**

“Daenerys, breathe...why are you so nervous? It’s just Jorah...” Missy put her hands on her best friends’ shoulders and her chin on her platinum head, looking into the mirror in front of them as the Princess sat at her dressing table.

“That’s the thing. It’s not ‘just Jorah’ anymore. It’s never been ‘just Jorah’” she blushed, and Missy went back to braiding Daenerys’ hair.

It was a rare free evening for all of them. Jaime was in his room, having a Skype date with Brienne and Gilly was doing the same with Sam. Grey was in the kitchen cooking for Missy and Daenerys and Jorah were going out on a real date. Out into the world as two adults who fancied the hell out of one another.

She had on a dark blue gown, one of the few pieces of formal-wear she had brought on the Tour, but she wanted to look amazing for him. Missy was braiding her hair intricately down her back and she looked stunning.

“It’s going to be so romantic,” Missy smiled and before Daenerys could reply, there was a knock on her door and Jorah stepped inside.

Missy took a step back, wanting to blend into the wall as the two of them took one another in, especially when Daenerys stood up and he was able to take all of her in. Missy was sure that even if there had been a dozen people around them – they would have only seen each other.

“I hope you both have a nice time,” Missy offered and Jorah cleared his throat – knowing he had been caught staring.

“Same to you and Grey. I’m driving us there and back and I have Grey’s spare...” Jorah flashed open his suit jacket to reveal a handgun. Daenerys knew this was breaking so many protocols but felt entirely safe with Jorah. She also knew any and all of them could lose their jobs letting her go out without proper security – and they were doing it all to make her happy.

Jorah offered Daenerys his arm and led her outside to the car, helping her in before getting in himself. They drove to Luanda Bay, on the coast of Angola, and down a two-lane highway on a narrow peninsula that snaked out to the water. At the very end of the peninsula, they reached their destination – a romantic little restaurant called Café del Mar, that they had all to themselves.

The two of them were shown into the restaurant, completely empty, but lit up with candles and all of the wait staff at their service. Daenerys greeted everyone, including the chefs, who were all clearly eager to meet her, before they were sat at a cozy table overlooking the bay and the setting sun.

Jorah had found the best restaurant in the area and managed to secure it last minute with his Royal credentials – but it still came at a substantial cost – one that he paid for personally, not only because it was important that he do so, but to keep it a secret.

“This is gorgeous, Jorah. It really is...” she smiled, looking around.

“I’m sorry it couldn’t be more personal, but it’s all I could find that was so private...” he apologized, and she reached across the table to touch his hand.

“It’s perfect, because it’s just us.” She reassured him, “Thank you.”

After that initial moment of nervousness, they fell into the same easy rhythm they had been establishing in the last few days – a back and forth full of smiles and flirtation and lowered gazes and pink-tinged cheeks.

They shared some sangria and he ordered fish and she a seafood pasta. They marveled at the way the ocean glittered with light before the sun fully sank below the horizon and the sky started to show them the stars. He told her funny stories about Rhaegar that made her laugh so hard her cheeks hurt. She regaled him with stories about her and Missy at Uni, and how they used to drive Grey up the walls. He told her about Lyanna and how he wanted Daenerys to meet her. She told him about her mother and how she wished Jorah could have met her.

After dinner, the restaurant owner showed them a small, private path down towards the beach. Daenerys took off her heels and Jorah held her hand as they made their way down a rocky slope to the edge of the water. He watched as she ventured forward and let the cool water run over her feet and ankles and she looked back at him, beautifully lit from behind by the glow of the moon.

“Jorah...come join me!” she motioned for him to come closer, but he shook his head. He was perfectly content watching her. That was until he saw her bend down and scoop her hand into the water to splash him. As soon as the sandy water hit him, he took off towards her, suddenly not caring that his dress shoes were going to be soaked through as he picked her up, spun her around once, held her close to him, and kissed her.

**~o0o~**

“I should go to bed, Daenerys,” Jorah told her as he laid on the edge of her bed in flannel pyjama bottoms and a white undershirt, head resting on his bent left arm as he looked up at her. It was the third time he had said it to her – almost more for himself, than anything, as it was nearing one in the morning.

After they came back from the restaurant, drunk on nothing but love and infatuation for one another, they snuck past Grey and Missy, who were asleep in each other’s arms on the couch. Jorah took a moment to change out of his wet dress pants and shoes and had joined Daenerys in her room.

And even though Jorah’s pyjamas were modest, Daenerys’ weren’t. When he left her alone to change, she put on a short, silky powder blue nightdress that she had chosen very much on purpose. It had been worth it to see the way Jorah’s eyes widened when he slipped into her bedroom and closed the door behind him.

Yet despite the fact that they were alone and on her bed, they had spent the last few hours continuing their conversation from their date.

“Don’t go...” Daenerys pouted.

“I should. You need your rest for another long day tomorrow.” He sat up from his comfortable position and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“Jorah...stay. You can sleep here. With me.” She bit her lip nervously as she asked, and he seemed to consider it for a moment before he sighed and shook his head.

“It wouldn’t be fair to everyone else to be seen taking such liberties with you. I know that everyone in this house is aware of what is going on between us, but if Gilly were to come in here tomorrow morning and see me in your bed, then what type of example am I setting as your equerry? I would never expect her to wait on me as she does you...”

“But you aren’t going to be my equerry for much longer. When we get home, I’m going to tell my father that I want to be with you. And he certainly won’t let you keep your job...” Daenerys frowned when she said the words aloud, realizing how self-centered they sounded. “I’m so sorry – I should have asked you before I started planning things in my head. Would you want that? Or do you want to stay my equerry? I know how hard you worked for the position.”

“Daenerys, I worked hard for the position with your brother, but I fell into the position with you under the worst of circumstances. I want more than anything to be with you and I won’t hesitate to give up my position for your family if it means we could make this work,” Jorah said honestly. He was touched that she had been thinking along the same lines as he, even if he conveniently ignored the fact that there would be another man waiting on the tarmac for them in Scotland ready to propose to her.

“We are going to make this work.” She told him, determination and love in her eyes as she reached for his hand and pulled him fully back onto the bed, “Jorah – I want you.”

“Daenerys...” he whispered as he pressed his forehead against hers, “We should...”

“Don’t tell me that we should take it slow. I know you are trying to protect me. To protect _this._ But I know what I am doing and I know you want this too,” she told him and he palmed her cheek and kissed her fiercely, finally letting the dam break on the physical need he had pent up for her and laid her gently down on the bed underneath him.

Daenerys ran her hands through his hair and pressed her hips up to try and find the friction that she so desperately needed, but one of his strong hands grabbed her hip and pushed her back down into the mattress, urging her to just enjoy the moment before her.

Jorah took his time and kissed down the delicate curve of her neck and the marble-cut line of her collar bone before slipping down the thin straps of her nightgown and continuing his journey between the swell of her breasts. His hands ghosted over them, just enough to make her nipples peak against his palms, before gliding them over the curves of her hips, bringing the fabric down slowly as well.

He groaned appreciatively as he kissed the feminine swell of her belly and finally revealed the soft patch of blonde hair and pink lips. He gently ran a finger down her slit and the wetness made him even stiffer. He looked up at her, wantonly laid out on the bed, hair splayed around her, watching him, before lowering his head to kiss her mound and the inside of her sensitive thighs, and finally, her center.

From the moment he started working for her, he promised to be at her service in any way she needed him – and right now all he wanted was to give her the pleasure she deserved.

The more he tasted her, the more he couldn’t get enough, and it only increased his arousal tenfold to explore her in that way, with her soft mewling and twisting of the bedsheets in her hands. She was so sensitive, and clearly new to this type of indulgence, that even a few gentle licks against her clit sent into a frenzy loud enough to wake the entire house. A few more minutes of him worshipping her, his thumb gently rubbing circles around her clit as he kissed her sopping wet folds and she came undone beautifully for him. He held her hips as she bucked and shook from her orgasm and he enjoyed the sweet nectar she gave him.

Jorah kissed back up her body and gently caressed her cheek, happy with how sated she looked and perfectly content to stop things there, but Daenerys’ eyes told him that she wasn’t done and she soon had him just as naked as she and underneath her.

He couldn’t believe how beautiful she looked hovering above him, kissing him, her breasts pressed against his chest and her hands wrapped around his cock.

“Oh Gods...Daenerys,” he groaned gruffly when she lowered herself onto him and he saw the pleasure overcome her as well.

It was as If their bodies were in tune with one another’s’ on a different level. Each movement brought them closer and him deeper inside of her. Their kisses turned sloppy and needy as she rode him. Her nails scratched down his strong shoulders and found purchase there when she finally lost control again and shuddered as another incredible orgasm overcame her, nearly just as Jorah rolled his hips up into her a few more times lost himself as well.

He held her tightly in his arms as they came down from their shared high. He had been married and made love to many women in his lifetime...but nothing had ever come close to the near spiritual experience he felt with her. The intense feeling both scared and elated him. Jorah knew that even if he couldn’t keep her –  that his heart would belong to her until his dying day.

“I love you, Jorah.” Daenerys whispered against his neck.

“I love you, too.”

 

 


End file.
